Burn Your Kingdom Down
by queen-korri
Summary: A kingdom ruled by fire An heir to rule from fire's ash For those who die in flames Shall rise again to claim The throne. This is the rule of the Phoenix kingdom, but what good are rules when chaos always seems to find us? This story is for resbang 2014! Be on the lookout for my artist's work and please read all of the other fantastic work that will be posted on grigoriwings!
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys! The time has finally come for me to post my resbang story! I am waaaaay super excited after all those months of hard work and I hope you enjoy! Please be sure to check out my artist's, snowbunnie13, artwork (which is super amazing by the way). Huge thanks to my betas rebornfromash, sandmancircus, hidding-in-shadows, and epicminion for all the laughs and help. Love you guys~ Alright, here we go!_

* * *

A kingdom ruled by fire

An heir to rule from fire's ash

For those who die in flames

Shall rise again to claim

The throne.

This was the law or their land, the written rule, a rule that had not been broken for generations. Until now.

"In the beginning of this kingdom, a wise phoenix ruled. She was kind and all knowing and cared for her subjects. It was a happy time. However, many people from other kingdoms were jealous of the phoenix's power. They wanted it for themselves, but realized that her power was something unattainable... so they decided to destroy her. Witches, warlocks, demons, ogres, and humans, invaded the kingdom and slaughtered the phoenix and everyone else in it, setting fire to the remains. For several days after, the invaders rejoiced in the destruction of the kingdom, enjoying the spoils of their villainy. However, after several weeks, someone noticed that a new kingdom was built in its place; it was small, but it seemed to be growing larger by the minute. And suddenly, the phoenix rose into the sky from the ashes, more beautiful than before. Every one of the invaders began to cower in fear, and with good reason! They did not realize that "The Phoenix" was not merely a title, but a truth. They didn't know she would come back, stronger than before. As her magnificent wings beat against the sky, she spoke,

"Death by fire, born from ash. Let no harm come to this land. For in spirit I will always protect, and an heir, born in the same way shall rule!"

And the phoenix began to spread her wings wide, a magnificent light shining from beneath her. She looked down at the monsters that destroyed her kingdom, spoke no words, but allowed her actions to speak for her. With a single flap of her powerful wings as her only warning, she easily knocked down her enemies, swooped down and gobbled every one of them up. After her meal, she went to find her heir, taught them everything that they needed to know, and then left for the realm of spirits. The people of her kingdom forever protected."

"Mama?"

"Yes, dear?" answered Lucretia, wife to the current Phoenix heir.

"How come you always tell us this story at bedtime?" asked her youngest son, Soul.

Lucretia laughed airily. "Well, I had always thought you liked this story, I thought it was your favorite!"

"It's my favorite mama!" Wesley, her eldest, said smugly.

Soul gasped indignantly. "It is not! You told me that that story bored you to tears!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did! Too!"

"I! Did! _Not!_"

"Yes! _You! Did!_"

"Boys!"

Both boys turned towards their mother. Lucretia was quite an imposing figure, her stature in the face of the public graceful yet unmoving, her heart-shaped face, roman nose, and deep brown eyes struck admiration, and very rarely, fear, into the heart of her subjects. Her long brown hair was woven into neat little braids that held the jewels of the queen on her head. Yes, Lucretia was quite a sight, though at the moment, she looked tired more than anything.

"Would you like to hear a different story?"

"Ooh, ooh I wanna hear one about a dragon!" Soul stated excitedly

"Yeah, mama! Tell us a story about a great, big dragon!" Wesley agreed.

Lucretia was beginning to regret giving them such a choice.

"Pleeeease?" the two boys pleaded harmoniously, both on either armrest of the chair their mother was sitting in. Lucretia looked down to see two pairs of bright, sparkling eyes. One pair a deep brown, like hers, the other a molten ruby, like her mother's.

"Mama?" Soul inquired softly, while tugging slightly on his mother's nightgown. "Can we please hear the story about the dragon?"

She smiled softly, and looked at both of her children, and said, "Right. Let's get on to it, shall we? You two have to wake up early in the morning for your lessons."

Both boys groaned at this.

She laughed.

"Once upon a time… There was a great, big dragon..."

* * *

Both boys fell asleep in the middle of the dragon story.

Lucretia stood from the plush chair in the middle of their beds, kissed both their foreheads and began making her way towards her own sleeping chambers.

"Finally asleep, now, are they?"

Lucretia jumped slightly as the doubled doors to her sons' bedroom closed.

"Alistair! You frightened me."

The Phoenix King chuckled lightly. He was a man of tall stature, broad shoulders, strong jaw, angled chin, and his overall physique made Lucretia the most envied woman in the kingdom. His face was oval, framed with light golden hair. His features consisted of a strong nose, tired eyes the color of the sky in midday spring, and thin lips. Yes, Lucretia was most envied.

"May I accompany you to your chambers?" Alistair requested charmingly.

"Well, aren't we quite daring?" Lucretia goaded, joining in on the game. "What would the maids think if they saw you walking the queen to her bedroom? How indecent! I can't even bear to imagine the rumors!"

"Well… there's nothing wrong in my guiding you to your quarters. The real scandal would be if I followed you into them," Alistair expressed with a devilish smirk.

"Oh my!" Lucretia exclaimed. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

The two royals laughed carelessly. Alistair held out his arm for Lucretia to hold and they made their way to their bedroom.

* * *

"Your majesties! Wake up! It's an emergency!"

" What in the Great Phoenix's name is going on?" Lucretia yawned.

"There's an invasion."

"...What?" Alistair gaped disbelievingly.

Lucretia began to act quickly. "Get the children! Get out there and make sure my boys are safe!"

The young mage ran out to do what he was told.

Alistair rose from the bed and went to a wall in the room that held several weapons; he picked out a sword. It was beautifully crafted, flames spiraling up the hilt with a central ridge made of solid gold. It had been passed down in his family for centuries, and was the only thing that had survived the town's fire, apart from himself.

"You stay here," he ordered.

"Are you mad?!" Lucretia asked, exasperated. "What, shall I just sit here and wait for my death?! No. I am coming with you."

"Lucretia, please!"

"Do not get loud with me, sir!" Lucretia said indignantly and turned away from him.

Alistair sighed, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Please, Lucretia, I need you to st-"

"Alistair?" Lucretia turned around, only to find her husband on the floor, an arrow sticking out of his stomach.

"No…" she whispered, distraught, as she ran to him and ran her hands across his face.

"Yes."

Lucretia looked up to see a hooded figure, armed with a bow and arrow aimed at Lucretia's throat.

"Who are you?"

"Protector of the sacred rule. 'Only those born from ash will rule.' Sound familiar? It should, you only tell the story to your _heir_ every night," the unknown figure spat, disgusted.

"Please. Just... don't kill them."

Lucretia couldn't see their face but she heard the smirk in their voice.

"Too late."

The invader released their hold on the arrow, and it was soon embedded deep into Lucretia's throat.

There was a matching one lodged in her heart.

* * *

"Maka, my dearest daughter, I'm home!" squealed Spirit, highest ranking knight of the King's Order.

Silence was his only answer.

"Maka?"

Once again, no answer.

Spirit was a greatly feared, beloved, and despised man. He worked diligently and religiously to earn his position in the ranks, being the youngest, at age 19, to ever become a Grand Knight, and became a lord shortly there after. Now at 35, when he led his men into battle, he led with an iron fist and a heart of gold. He was an imposing figure, with his blazing red hair, sea foam eyes, and square jaw. Every woman wanted him (and he gladly reciprocated) and every man envied and loathed him. Yes, Spirit Albarn was quite the impressive man.

"MAAKKAAA! WHERE ARE YOU? ANSWER YOUR PAPA, PLEASE!"

Though, at the moment, he wasn't quite so impressive.

Spirit scurried all around his magnificent, yet comfortable home, startling the maids and causing a general ruckus.

"WHERE'S MY MAKAAA!?" Spirit wailed.

"She's in the garden, my lord," a young maid answered meekly, hoping to get Spirit to calm down.

"The garden! Of course!" Spirit placed his large hands on the maid's tiny shoulders, gave her two slobbery kisses on both of her cheeks and then made his way to the garden.

"M-m-my Lord! The madam has made it very clear for no one to disturb her!" the maid yelled after him, flustered.

"Oh, but she will be so happy to see her Papa!" Spirit stated giddily.

The maid stared after him with furrowed eyebrows, her wet cheeks rosy red as she twisted her hands. "I have a feeling you are very wrong, my lord," she sighed, exasperated.

* * *

"Oh, Maka! Your dearest father is ho~ome!" Spirit exclaimed, bursting open the doors to the modest garden.

There, his daughter sat, a true vision of grace and beauty. Her posture immaculate and focused as she sat akimbo, reading a book (one she must have read a thousand times, for it was weathered at the edges and appeared to be falling apart) in a mint green house gown. Her soft, round face was framed by ash blonde hair, twisted into one, long braid. Her thin, pink lips were pouting slightly, her large, jade green eyes focused on the words on the page, and her round, upturned nose slightly twitching from the pollen being blown in the light summer breeze.

She was her father's pride.

However, the feeling wasn't so mutual for Maka.

"MAKA! WHY WON'T YOU SPEAK TO YOUR PAPA?!" Spirit cried, knees to the ground and looking pleadingly to his daughter.

Maka sighed, rolled her eyes, and turned a page in her overworn book.

"Oh. Papa. You've returned," Maka stated blandly, her eyes never leaving the pages.

"YES!" Spirit crawled over to her excitedly. Maka inched away from him. Paying heed to his daughter's annoyance, he cleared his throat and tried to calm himself down.

"Yes, I have returned. I missed you very much!" Spirit smiled brightly.

Maka turned the next page in her book.

Spirit's smile faltered a bit. "Did anything exciting happen while I was gone?" he chuckled nervously.

"No."

"O-oh."

A light breeze shuffling the leaves only seemed to intensify the silence between them.

"Uh, um. What are you reading?" he asked while looking over her shoulder.

Maka huffed, slammed her book shut, picked up the long skirt of her house gown and strode purposefully and quickly into the house.

"Maka!" Spirit yelled as he scrambled to get up and follow her.

When he finally caught up with her, she was sitting in the main sitting room by the window, the sunlight hitting her face in way that made her look just like her mother and made his heart ache.

"Maka…" he started softly, making his way over to the equally lavish and plush chair adjacent to hers.

"Yes, Papa?" she said, her tone falsely innocent and highly dangerous.

"Are-are you not happy to see your papa?" Spirit asked cautiously.

"I believe I'd be much happier to see you if you actually cared to inform me that you were going away in the first place," she replied with the same innocent smile on her face, but her tone distinctly opposite.

Spirit balked. Had he really not told her that he was going away? Oh right, it was such a last minute mission that he barely had any time to inform the servants to inform his daughter that he was leaving.

"I-I told the maids to tell you that I was leaving and to tell you all the details!"

"Oh, please, they knew no better than I did. Except that you left in such a rush, that you couldn't even say goodbye to your only daughter."

"I-!"

"And I highly doubt you even went on a mission! Never has there been a mission without a sufficient amount of days of training!"

"Maka-!"

"Am I such miserable company? Well, I'm sorry that I have no friends because you want to lie down with every man's wife-!"

"ENOUGH," Spirit bellowed, the commander in him coming out to silence his daughter. Yes, he has done many disgraceful things in his life and sometime his eyes wander much too far, but this was getting out of hand.

Maka was shocked. Never had her father gotten so terse or angry with her before. And it _hurt_. She had never felt so vulnerable and it showed. Spirit instantly regretted yelling at her.

"Maka…" He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. Her face was guarded, her jaw set and her eyes were looking forward.

"I am sorry if I upset you. Father."

Spirit had never heard her talk like that before and it worried him.

"Mak-"

"Now, if you don't mind, I will be excusing myself. Welcome home, Papa."

Spirit could do nothing more than watch her slowly walk out of the lounge room. He put his head in his hands and sighed.

He always screwed something up.

* * *

As soon as she stepped out of the lounge room, she began to run. Hot tears began to stream down her face and she continuously tripped due to her long dress.

"Pig! _Pig_! All of them! Pigs! _Idiot_!"

But she did not stop, not until she reached her destination.

The stables.

When her mother was alive, she used to take one of the stable horses and ride them all around town, with Maka in tow. Now, she came here, whenever she was especially sad, angry, or disappointed, in hopes to regain that feeling of pure happiness again.

It never really worked, but she always felt her mother's presence there.

The stable hands were quite acquainted with Maka's habits and mostly just stayed out of her way, sometimes bringing her food, a book, or a blanket on her particularly bad days. Today being one of them.

She walked up to the holding pen of her horse, Artemis. She opened the gate, petted her horse, and made herself comfortable on the straw. She was asleep within seconds.

* * *

She woke up to a thin blanket on her person.

And the smell of smoke.

She rose immediately and saw that a lantern that one of the stable hands probably left for her, had been kicked down by one of the horses.

She got out of Artemis's pen and ran to the entrance to escape and set the other horses free.

It was locked.

"HELP!"

She began to scream and kick the door. The horses began to panic.

"It's alright."

Maka turned towards the voice and saw a figure beginning to form in the fire.

It looked just like her mother.

"Mama?"

The figure smiled and suddenly began to shift into the image of a magnificent bird. The bird cawed and flew towards Maka, and it's wings, made of fire, wrapped around her.

The heat was calming.

She had never felt so loved.


	2. Chapter 2

"Where are we going?" young Soul asked sleepily.

"On a trip," his grandmother answered, her face a careful mask of indifference as she looked out the carriage window. The carriage quickly making it's way down a winding, tree-covered path. On the inside, she was heartbroken and tormented as she could only think about her daughter, her son-in-law, and one of her grandsons-all of them dead.

"Where are Mama, Papa, and Wes?" Soul asked innocently.

The Duchess Camille was not easily shocked. She always sat tall, her stature never wilting throughout the years. Her expression always seemed to be slightly bored with her down turned eyes that resembled the color of rubies, and her lips permanently set in a thin line. Her hair, the color of silver, was tied in a no-nonsense bun at the back of her head. As a duchess, she was imposing and calculating, but as a mother and grandmother, she was sweet and gentle. It tore her apart that her family had been shattered and that her only living grandson had no idea.

"They will not be coming with us," she answered, her tone heavy.

"Why not?" Soul asked indignantly. "I miss them."

Camille turned away from the window, and looked at her grandson. His face so young and innocent, cheeks round and eyes wide, with a light that would eventually go out much quicker than intended. She patted his head, rubbed his cheek, and gently convinced him to lie down on her lap and ran her hand through his soft, pale, pale, pale blonde hair.

"As do I, Soul," she whispered, willing for her voice to steady as stray tears ran down her face.

"As do I."

* * *

"We are gathered here today in memory of the late Maka Albarn, daughter to Lord Spirit Albarn and the late Karen Albarn…"

"I-I can't believe she's-... I mean-... How…?" Spirit sputtered quietly under his breath.

He was by himself, standing next to his daughter's empty casket. There had been no remains in the fire, just ashes.

He didn't even have a body to cry over, just memories and lost chances.

His eyes roamed over the people who decided to attend. Nearly all of the town came-not surprising considering he invited them.

He was beginning to regret doing so.

Hundreds of strangers dressed in their fanciest black linens (as was he), packed into the town's large church to see the funeral of a girl who was the daughter of the man of whom they all hated to some extent. He knew these people, yet he did not truly know them. They were all faces and names and late nights and unfamiliar beds and unwanted sneers. The only "friend", if you were to call him that, he had in this crowd was the town's doctor, Franken Stein, whom he knew from a young age. The man was insane, but in all, he was a good companion, both in childhood and adulthood, and he looked out for Spirit. Still, Maka hadn't really known or seen him since she was a baby.

Maka hadn't really known anyone.

And now she never will.

"_Am I such miserable company? Well, I'm sorry that I have no friends because you want to lie down with every man's wife-!"_

"_ENOUGH."_

Spirit had been replaying this in his head for the past few days, their last conversation his haunting lullaby when he fell asleep and his disturbing wake up call when he woke up, several times, in the middle of the night , cold, shivering, and sweaty. Her final words of " Welcome home, Papa" lingering in the recesses of his mind, a bitter, dry taste in his mouth.

Throughout the rest of the funeral, Spirit remained stoic, his posture rigid and his face unreadable. But no tears. No wild, excessive flailing. No overemotional sobs. No extreme faces. It confused everyone. But they didn't understand.

He had cried all his tears already.

* * *

"Your majesty! Your majesty!" A young palace boy yelled while running frantically throughout the vast and winding halls. Since the second invasion that killed the last Phoenix Heir, all of his family- and several of the servants, except for his youngest son- renovations and precautions have been taken to protect the current inhabitants of the castle.

So, it was no surprise to the young boy when a much older servant caught onto his leg, causing him to fall flat on his face, the older servant's hand still wrapped around the younger boy's leg as she stepped up from one of the many secret doors under one of the many elegant, exactly identical carpets in one of the many, exactly identical, disorienting hallways.

"Aye child! What 're ya doin' runnin' a muck in the hallways?! Tharn't any mud on yer boots, 're there?" the old maid asked, frenzied.

The young boy hurriedly got to his feet, and patted the dust off of him and then stood straight, trying to give the utmost respect to the senior servant.

"No, ma'am! I'm sorry fer runnin' through the hallways, ma'am! But I've got a message fer the King!" he stated excitedly.

"Well, what message requires ya to go tearin' up the halls like so?" the maid asked, a few parts annoyed, but more curious than anything.

"Thar's been a fire!"

The maid's eyes grew wide in disbelief.

"A fire? But the phoenix…?" her question drifted off from her tongue and turning to the matters at hand. "Never mind that, here, take this servant entrance an' go straight, until ya have to make a right, but don't make a right, turn to the bricks on yer left and push the fifth one in the sixth row down an' the door should op'n an' you'll be in throne room. If the King is not in there, ya can wait for him there, that's where he spends most of his time."

The boy's eyes lit up at the chance of finally being able to use the secret tunnels and scurried away with a quick "Yes, ma'am! Thank ya, ma'am!" delighted to finally have interesting news in his small world.

"Aye. Dear Phoenix." She paused. " What 're ya doin' to us?"

* * *

"A fire?"

"Yes sir! A fire!" The young boy quipped, eagerly.

Soul "Eater" Evans. The only living son to the deceased Lucretia and Phoenix King Alistair and brother to the late Wesley Evans. Soul had many names, The Lost Heir, Eater, Death Scythe, The Phoenix Blessed and many more. He earned his last three titles from the Battle for the Throne of Fire, or more known to Soul as reclaiming his home. It was said that no one saw not one body leave the castle after the battle, dead or alive. So, the people believed that Soul ate their remains, which wasn't so far fetched an idea when they saw what the "Lost Heir" actually looked like when he staggered out of the castle after reclaiming the castle, all on his own, with a sharp farming scythe as his only weapon.

He was demonic.

White hair, red eyes, ripped clothing, but he had a build and chin like his father and cheekbones and a nose like his mother. There was no doubt he was the Lost Heir. And after that battle, it was no doubt he was blessed by the phoenix, because not only had he survived an attempt on his young life but he also survived a battle with a hundred or so men by himself.

He was like a god among the people.

"Are you sure it was a fire, like with flames and smoke, and everything?" Soul asked.

"Yep! Nothin' but ashes left, too!" the young boy informed him, happily.

"Shit…"

"Are you allowed to say that, your majesty? Cuz, I don't think yer allowed to say that," the young boy said innocently.

An awkward temperamental teenage god, but a god none the less.

"Ah, sorry kid. Um, thank you, for telling me this," Soul said, the last part mumbled due to his head being in his hands.

"Yer welcome, yer majesty! I'll be on mah way now, yer majesty!" the young boy stated excitedly, as he quickly turned around and made his way towards the large bronze doors of the throne room.

"Uh, kid wait!" Soul yelled, hand out willing for him to stop.

"Yes, yer majesty?" the young boy asked, politely.

"What's your name?"

The boy smiled widely, and for the first time since he has been in here, Soul noticed that his two front teeth were missing, one on the bottom and another on the top. This made Soul smile, almost showing the sharp tips of his own teeth.

"It's Dylan! But everyone calls me Dyl. It's quicker!" His smile grew even wider.

"Well...Dyl," Soul said, trying out the nickname in his mouth, the affectionate term sounding much more amiable than "Eater". "Go down to the kitchen and ask the chef for something sweet. Your choice. Tell him I sent you."

"Really?!"

"Really." Soul smiled warmly. "Matter of fact…" Soul said taking out a coin purse from his robes and dumped several coins in his hands and held them out to Dylan. "Take this and show it to him. You can only get these coins from the king. You won't have any problem getting your sweets after you show that to him."

"Oh wow!"

"And then afterwards, spend the coins however you want."

"Wha-! I-! Thank ya so much, sir! Thank ya!" Dylan ran up to Soul grabbed the coins, hugged him quickly and was on his way out in less than a minute.

Soul's warm smile began to slip from his face.

"Alright, Phoenix Born. I've lost my home once, I don't think I'm prepared to lose it again."

* * *

"Faster, Mama! Faster!" young Maka squealed as she held on tightly to the horse's neck, her mother holding the reins in one hand and keeping her daughter steady with the other.

"Alright, Maka. But this is the last lap, we have to go back into the house soon," Karen answered lightly, her long light brown hair flying freely as she urged the horse to pick up it's pace.

Karen Albarn was a wonder and oddity to the large village that she lived in. She looked and acted differently from everyone else with her Japanese features and customs. Many women resented her for her youthful, creamy skin and her thick, long hair. Her face was round, her eyes were almond shaped and a light brown, her nose was small and round and her lips were small, but full. She was of a shorter stature, with a petite and lithe figure that many of the women in the village would have killed to have.

Karen was not well liked.

But she hadn't come all the way from her homeland to this small, powerful kingdom to be "well liked". She came here to be with the man she fell in love with so many years ago when she had first arrived in the kingdom.

He was annoying and persistent back then. She did not like him at all the first day she met him and she told him so, but he began to grow on her as days went on. She couldn't stop thinking about him on her trip home, after many months of visiting, and thoughts of him continued to assault her when she did reach home.

When she came back, she told him about how she always got headaches when she thought about him, how she walked around like her skull was about to burst. He laughed.

He proposed to her not too long after.

"Papa! You're home!" Maka chirped, squirming and wiggling to get out of her mother's grasp. Karen brought the horse to a halt, stepped down from the stirrups and then helped her daughter down. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she was running towards her father, tackling him in a bear hug, if the bear only weighed 50 pounds and wore pigtails.

"Oh! You got me! Whatever shall I do!" Spirit wailed playfully, rolling around the grass and making fake dying noises.

Maka giggled. "Get up, Papa! I _know_ you're playing pretend!"

"Oh, what a smart girl I have on my hands! You, my dearest, can not simply be tricked by silly smoke and mirrors! You have foiled me again!" Spirit cried, suddenly picking her up and spinning her around in the air, causing Maka to scream in joy and laugh giddily.

Karen smiled. This was the moment before everything went to hell, so she would enjoy it for as long as she could.

Spirit placed Maka back on the ground and made his way over to his wife, taking up her tiny frame in his embrace and bending slightly to meet her lips.

"Welcome home, Spirit," Karen said softly, patting his cheek and slipping out of his embrace. She grabbed her daughter's hand and made her way to the house, letting one of the stable hands take her horse back to the stables. Normally, she would do it herself, but she had something important to discuss with her husband and she just wanted to get it over with.

Spirit looked after his wife skeptically, her behavior worrying him. He watched her and his daughter as they walked into the house before shaking his head and following after them.

"How was your horseback ride, my dear?" Spirit asked, a bit tentatively.

"It was fine," Karen answered, brusquely.

"Oh-oh yes. I see Maka was having a won-"

"Martha, will you please take Maka to her room and set her down for her nap?" Karen asked a maid who was passing them by, cutting Spirit off.

"Of course, m'lady."

Maka yawned.

"I'm not tired, Mama," Maka stated tiredly, rubbing her face and barely keeping her eyes open.

"Of course you aren't sweetheart," Karen countered, picked her up, kissed her forehead and handed her off to the maid. She began to continue her journey throughout the halls, in the opposite direction. Spirit sputtered, not sure if he should deal with his wife first or follow the maid to his daughter's room. Spirit continued to look back and forth and decided he could kiss his daughter's forehead later. He needed to figure out what was wrong with Karen.

* * *

He found her in the main sitting room, in what she so fondly called "her" chair. It was large and ivory colored, an orchid printed plush armchair that sat by the window and was adjacent to the fire place. When she sat in it, she looked so much smaller than what she actually was, like now.

"Karen?" Spirit asked cautiously.

"Yes, Spirit?" she answered, her body turned away from him, guarded expression facing towards the window.

"Are you feeling well, my dear? Is there something you wish to talk about?"

Her posture tensed from his question and she sharply turned her head to meet his eyes, her eyes cutting into him like a knife.

"Have I done something wrong-"

"Please, just… Just stop," she pleaded as she began to rise out of her seat and stand purposefully.

Spirit carefully made his way over to his wife. She was much like an ambush when she was angry, quiet and still, but then suddenly an outburst of swords and heavy bodies. Being ambushed by her hurt far more though.

"Please…" he started placidly. "Please, tell me what I've done to upset you so." He took her hands into his, but she snatched them away before he could kiss them, refusing to look at him.

"Karen, my love." He gently used his hand on her chin to turn her head towards him. He could clearly see the hurt and anger in her eyes. He let go of her chin, lightly resting his hand on her arm.

"Talk to me."

Karen huffed and looked away once again. She took a deep, stabilizing breath and looked Spirit in his eyes.

"There are rumors…" She began, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Rumors that the people in town say about you."

Spirit began to tense up, not liking the direction that this conversation was going.

"People keep whispering about how I'm such a fool and that I don't know any better and that-that-that… that when you go away... missions are not the only thing that you are doing," she finished, her eyes glaring at him.

He gulped.

"And that when I go on to my trips back to my homeland, women are frequently in and out of this house," she stated, her tone becoming angrier.

"Karen-" he pleaded, touching her shoulders. She flinched as if he had burned her and stepped back.

"And that even when I am here, you are very familiar with the insides of several of the homes in this town."

Was he sweating? He felt very dirty and slimy and disgraceful.

"And even more familiar with the women in those houses," she said with finality, the tone of a woman who had already received all of her answers, and was only asking for clarification.

A thick, charged silence filled the room, the space between them suffocating.

"Karen, please just let me explain-!"

"You bastard!" she exclaimed.

"I am so, so, so sorry! I didn't want to hurt you, but sometimes I was just so lonely-!"

"Even when I was here?! _Right next to you?!_ Like an idiot, I followed you everywhere!"

"I know-"

"Am I such miserable company? What, do I bore you, now?! Am I not exciting enough, _exotic _enough?!"

"Karen, please-!"

"You bastard, you absolute bastard! I- Dear Phoenix! I can't believe- and I knew, I knew, but I still, still let myself fall in love with you!" She yelled at him, the expression on her face full of pain and regret and it _hurt_ Spirit to look at her, but he couldn't look away. "And look where it's gotten me!" she continued, the last part coming out in a sob.

"Karen, Karen, darling please…" he murmured sweetly, wrapping her up in a tight embrace, that she quickly squirmed her way out of.

"NO!" Karen shouted, her face red, tears staining it, and her breathing hard. "No," she said more quietly, but no less infuriated as she glared up at him. "Do not- don't you dare-! Don't you dare!"

The two stared at each other, Spirit feeling as if he were a million miles away from the woman standing right in front of him. He reached and reached but he would always fall, tumbling down into darkness, a million miles away.

"I am taking the horse and I am going for a ride to clear my head," she stated dangerously calm. "We will discuss this later."

She was around him and out of the room before he could even blink.

* * *

He waited for her to return all night.

When dawn came, Spirit sent out a search party for her.

He and a few others found her body, dry blood caked up on her face, arms and legs and her riding gown torn and shredded, twigs and rocks lodged into her skin, in a river down the hill just outside of town, her horse nowhere to be found.

She was so cold.

Spirit had never screamed so loud.

He always screwed something up.


	3. Chapter 3

From a young age, Maka loved to read. She read everything and anything she could get her forever-seeking hands on. Fairy Tales, myths, scientific theories (though her father always squawked that those were forbidden for her to see because she was a girl.

She threw said texts at his head.

It wasn't like she went out in to town, frequently, anyway, no one would see her reading them, mathematical theories (which, again, resulted in a dent in her father's head), notes, recipes, stories, poems, tragedies, comedies, romances, and especially, history.

Oh Phoenix, she _loved_ to read stories about how people lived years before, what they ate, what they believed in, who ruled, when they ruled, how they ruled. She devoured as much information as she could.

Never did she dream that she would actually be a part of history, though.

Okay, so that wasn't entirely true, she had always dreamed of being the first female published writer (she had several drafts at home that were ready to be sent to the town's publisher at a moment's notice) or being the first to solve some of the mathematical theories, correctly.

But never had she ever even dared to dream of being the Phoenix Born.

But she wasn't dreaming, this was real. As real, as the ash under her hands and the extreme confusion on her face.

She was lying face down in the ashes of what used to be the stable area, dazed, as if waking up from a nap.

A sudden feeling of panic and extreme heat seemed to climb up her throat as she remembered what happened to her the last time she took a nap.

She died.

Maka slowly began to sit up, resting herself on her knees as she began to evaluate herself.

The mint green house dress she wore before had been replaced with a gorgeous, shimmering golden gown, designs of fire licking the dress' sleeves and bodice. It hung on tight to her body, showing off her slight curves, but was very comfortable. There wasn't a corset in this dress, so she could actually breathe.

She was still breathing.

She was alive. She was _alive._

Maka inhaled deeply, the air smelling much like a mixture of dew and ash, but no longer like the smoke she had inhaled with her last breath, and she laughed.

As she rose from her position from the ground, she ran her hands through her un-braided hair and began to dance around, her bare feet mixing the ashes.

She moved like fire, wildly, without a care, moving in many directions, but also staying in one place, until leaping spontaneously. She laughed like fire too, loud, quick and sharp for she couldn't contain the happiness she felt.

She was alive.

She was warm.

* * *

"My lord! My lord!" a young, fat servant bellowed, huffing and puffing as he desperately knocked on the door to Spirit's bedroom.

"What?" Spirit demanded, drunkenly swinging the door open, to reveal his very… unkempt appearance.

"My lord, I have exciting news for you!" the servant chirped, ecstatic at the opportunity to get the great Grand Knight out of his woeful and intoxicated stupor.

"I don' want any good -hiccup- news!" Spirit slurred, swatting his hand at the pudgy boy. "Whut's tha use of gettin' yer hopes up, wh-when they just get crushed, anyway?"

"Yes, my lord. But-!"

"A man loses his wife an' daughter an' all you wanna do is make 'im haah-happy, just so he can be sad again. Yer mmmad, my boy, mad 'n tha head!" Spirit accused, drunkenly pointing a finger at the servant, and then pointed it to himself.

"You see, I am jus' a poor ol' lord, who missesss his wife an' daughter, terr-terr-terr-ib-ly." He hiccuped. "They were both beati'ful. An' smart. An' kind. An'-"

"My lord! There is a woman dancing in the remains of the stables!" the servant said, interrupting Spirit.

"Lookin' at other women is whut got me in this mess n' tha first place!" Spirit yelled childishly. "Wait a minute, didja say she was dancin' in the remains uf tha stables? Why, of all tha disrespect-!" Spirit mumbled, his anger not helping his state of inebriation. He reached for the hilt of his sword which was not on his waist, and instead of pulling out a long, thin, silver sword, he pulled out the string in his pants, causing his sleeping pants to fall down around his ankles. Thank the Phoenix, for the young servant's sake, that Spirit's underpants were still on securely.

"OFF WITH 'ER HEAD!" Spirit battle cried, almost running over the servant to get out of the room. The young boy ran after him, having a hard time keeping up with Spirit, even in his drunken state, Spirit was in top physical form. The young servant boy, however, was not. When he finally caught up with Spirit, he had already reached what once was the stable grounds. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The young servant boy huffed and puffed behind him, finally gaining enough air to wheeze out, "The woman at the remains is-"

"Maka?" Spirit questioned disbelievingly.

Maka stopped dancing, finally aware of her audience.

"Papa?"

And her audience's lack of clothing.

"Dear Phoenix, Papa, where are you clothes?!"

* * *

Soul paced back and forth in his vast study, the train of his robes almost tripping him, frantically reading the large tome in his hands, flipping pages to and fro before growling angrily, and throwing the book over his shoulder to join the many others, all sprawled out and their spines bent in a ridiculous manner.

He aggressively pulled out another book from one of the taller shelves, quickly skimming through that before deciding it was useless, and throwing it aside.

One of the maids that tended to the study barely dodged the flying book.

"Find anything yet, your Highness?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing. Nothing. _Nothing!_ Not one of these ancient texts tell me how I'm supposed to deal with a Phoenix Born while someone, like, Oh, I don't know, _me_, is already ruling!" he exclaimed, throwing another tome into the "useless old dusty books" pile. He sighed and the maid began to grab a chair for him to sit down on, he took it from her and thanked her, head in his hands.

"Well, your majesty, if I may be so blunt with you…?"

Soul sighed. "You may."

"Thank you. Your majesty, I think you know what you have to do," she stated.

"I know. I know. But...this is my home. I had to fight for it not five years ago, and all of a sudden there's a fire in some far part of the kingdom and I am supposed to just step down, without a fight? 'Oh here ya go Phoenix Born, just take the place that was ripped away from me at five years old and had to brutally fight for at fifteen! Guess, I'll be on my way!' I mean we don't even know who was in the fire, let alone if they even survived!"

"We got a name! We got a name! We got a name!"

Both the heads of the maid and Soul turned towards young Dylan skipping into the library and singing "We got a name!" loudly. Soul thunked his head onto the back of the chair.

"Just my fucking luck," Soul swore silently.

"Yer majesty…" Dylan scolded.

"Dylan! You do not scold the king!" The maid turned frantically towards the boy, not wanting him to get in trouble.

"It's alright. Sorry, Dyl. So, you got the names of the people in the fire? Care to tell them to me, then we'll begin making arrangements," Soul stated calmly, though on the inside, he was terrified. The possibility of losing his home becoming much less of a probability and more of a reality.

"Not names, yer majesty. One name. Maka Albarn. She was spotted tha other day!"

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

There really was a Phoenix Born.

"Thank you. Dylan. You did very well," he strained, patting the young boy's head.

"Yer welcome, yer majesty!" Dylan smiled widely.

Soul smiled back softly and then turned towards the maid.

"Will you please go to the messenger and tell him to go to the Albarn household and tell the head of the house that the king requests the Phoenix Born's presence."

"Oh, yer majesty, th'arnt any reason to do that! She's already on 'er way!" Dylan quipped.

"How do you know that?" Soul asked skeptically.

Dylan dug into his shirt and pulled out a letter. He then handed it to Soul, who took it and skimmed the parchment quickly. The letter announced the upcoming arrival of the Phoenix Born.

He couldn't contain his swearing even if he tried.

"...Fuck."

* * *

"Wes…?" Soul whispered, nose peeking out from under the covers.

Soul was met with silence, if not a slight echo.

"Wes!" Soul whispered a bit more loudly.

"Mhmm," Wes grumbled, wanting nothing more than for Soul to go back to sleep and to leave him alone.

"Wes, I know you're up," Soul whined way too closely to Wes's ear. Somehow, in the short amount of time between Wes ignoring Soul and Soul being a brat (in Wes's opinion), Soul had gotten out of his bed and had made his way onto the top of Wes and was now currently shaking Wes's body. Wes, on the other hand, was contemplating how one could shut up their younger brother without potentially getting in trouble later.

"Soul…" Wes groaned, swatting at Soul. "Go back to sleep."

"Okay, well move over and I will," Soul stated, pouting.

Wes sighed, burrowing his head further into his soft, cool pillow (which he'd be able to enjoy if his little brother wasn't so annoying sometimes), "Go back to sleep, in your own bed, Soul."

Soul shifted his position on the bed, his eyes downcast, and his cheeks red.

"I can't…"

"You can't go back to bed? Did you wet it? Again?" Wes teased, mainly because he was annoyed but he never meant any real harm.

"That was one time! When I was four!" Soul defended.

"Wow, only a few months ago. I truly apologize, for living so deeply in the past," Wes replied, now sitting up, his hand on his chest and his face covered in mock reparation.

Soul puffed out his cheeks, turning redder by the minute.

Wes stared at his younger brother, a bit shocked at his silence. Though, sometimes Soul truly did get on his nerves (their mother said that it was because of the five year age gap that was between them, the boys countered that the other was just plain stupid. They weren't allowed to have dessert for a whole week, afterwards,) but he never wanted to hurt Soul. Sometimes he was a pest, but Wes loved him.

Wes sighed and moved to make room for his younger brother.

"Come on, Soul," he beckoned, patting the spot next to him.

Soul crawled over to him quickly and buried his face into Wes's arm, clutching him tightly.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Wes asked worriedly. His little brother was not one to really outwardly show his true feelings; he liked to live behind a mask of indignance and puffed out cheeks, and rarely would he ever choose to let someone know that something was upsetting him.

"Soul? Are you alright?" Wes questioned, growing more worried about his brother as he continued to burrow himself into Wes's side, his hold on him growing tighter, almost to the point of slightly hurting. Soul finally responded to Wes after a while, mumbling something incoherently.

"Care to repeat that, little brother?" Wes asked gently, pulling out the older, caring brother card in hopes to make Soul feel a little bit more comfortable talking to him instead of just squeezing the air out of him.

"I...I feel like something bad is gunna happen to us," Soul uttered, tentatively.

Wes gasped, "Soul! You are much much too young to be acting so pessimistic!" Wes scolded, putting on a high pitched voice and a haughty air.

Soul always loved it when he mocked one of their snobbish aunts, especially the one that always like to pinch their cheeks, she was the worst. But… this time... he didn't even respond.

Not even a smile.

Oh no. This was bad.

"Um, um sorry. I was-... You're really worried about this aren't you?" Wes asked, concerned. His only answer from Soul was a slight nod and the clenching of his fists.

Soul had been overhearing some of the conversations that his father and advisors discussed in his study. At first, they didn't make any sense to him, and he would be more focused on trying to find Wes's hiding spot or trying to chase him down the corridor. But some nights he stayed up and thought about the snippets of conversation that he heard, and began to worry.

"_Your majesty, you have to understand why the people are upset. For centuries, there has been only one way to rule and that was to be chosen by the phoenix. You can't just decide to change the order of things!"_

"_I am the King. Making new laws is what my occupation calls for."_

"_Yes, but this isn't just some law, you're passing on the throne to your children! They are not Phoenix Born! They cannot rule this kingdom!"_

"_They can and they will. End of discussion."_

His father had gotten up at that point and began to exit the room. Soul heard Wes giggle and he ran to find his not-so-secretive hiding place.

What his father and that man were discussing wasn't so important to him then, but it was now. What did it all mean? All of that talk was just so confusing. Did the people of the kingdom dislike him and his brother? Why? Because they were not Phoenix Born? Because their father had decided to give Wes the throne when he got older? Soul didn't have a problem with it, so he didn't get why everyone else did. He just wanted everyone to be happy and he didn't want anything bad to happen to them.

* * *

"Your highnesses! Wake up! Wake up! We have to get out of here!" a palace mage shrieked, barging into the boys' bedroom.

The two brothers looked at each other and then quickly scrambled out of Wes's bed, the palace mage grabbing ahold of their hands when they reached the door and they began to run.

"Where are Mama and Papa?" Soul asked, looking around for them, hoping that his parents were right behind them.

"The King and Queen are on their way, I'm sure of it. They will most likely be meeting you in the carriage that is waiting outside, your grandmother is already there."

Soul tensed as fear overtook him. His grandmother only visited for two reasons, family banquets and emergencies.

And they had had dinner hours ago.

The mage sensed Soul's fear and tried to smile comfortingly at him, though, he was quite frightened himself, as he was a major target. Despite his negative thoughts, the mage tried to brighten up the situation, as much as running away to save your life could be brightened up, for the boys' sakes. "It's quite alright boys! You'll be out and safe in no ti-" He choked, falling face first onto the ground, an arrow sticking out of his back, right where his left lung was located.

Soul screamed.

A hooded figure crept its way out of the shadows of an intersecting corridor, raising it's bow and arrow at their next target.

"Soul! Run!" Wes yelled, pushing his brother to keep running. In Soul's shock, he ended up on his butt, instead.

"B-but what about you, Wes?" Soul sputtered.

"I'll be fine! I'm right behind you!" Wes yelled once again, then smiled at his brother, his grin crooked and smug, as if they were playing a game.

Suddenly, Soul didn't feel so scared anymore. He laughed.

"Last one to the carriage is an old hag!" Soul yelled giddily, and then dashed down the hallway.

"Get him," the hooded figure ordered. A large man with the words "No Future" written over his eye appeared, howled, and began to run down the hall. Wes jumped in front of him to stop him, but was pushed aside roughly, his small body hitting the wall.

The hooded figure walked up to the young boy and stroked his cheek. Wes snathched his face away from her hands, and asked, "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Why… aren't you just as brave and inquisitive as your mother?" the figure stated innocently, removing their hood, to reveal their smile, which quickly transformed into a mad grin. "Serves right that you should also die like her."

Wes gasped, then choked, unable to scream due to the arrow lodged in his throat.

* * *

"Wes, I don't want to play this game anymore!" Soul whined, his legs tired of running and aimlessly turning corners to avoid being caught by the uncharacteristically loud, booming steps of his older brother.

"Aye! Young prince! Oy, thank tha Phoenix yer still alive! Please, follow me," a maid shouted, ecstatic to find the prince. She led him to the carriage after briefly stopping to talk to another servant, her demeanor decidedly less ecstatic and relieved after doing so. As soon as they reached the carriage, the horseman hurriedly opened it, and the maid gently dumped the young prince inside. She looked up and locked eyes with the prince's grandmother, the elder woman looking pleadingly into her eyes, but she could only shake her head and move her gaze towards the ground.

The horseman quickly closed the door.

"Where are we going?"


	4. Chapter 4

Maka had never been outside of town before. Her parents had both traveled for miles and miles, her mother going back and forth from her homeland and her father traveling all over this side of the world for conquests of many kinds (some less honorable than others). But, Maka... Maka barely left the house, sometimes due to to her intensive reading, but mainly because her father is a hypocritical, paranoid oaf that doesn't want any boy deflowering his precious daughter. She can't count how many times she's thrown a book at his head for saying something like that to her.

But, now…

She was the Phoenix Born and she was in a beautiful mahogany and ivory horse-drawn carriage on her way to be personally seen by the King. The drapes covering the windows to the carriage were a beautiful jade green with gold embroidery, but she paid them no mind, her hand shoving them aside as she gazed, fascinated, at the world they were travelling through.

They had just left town, its large black gate now closing behind them, and instead of being surrounded by people, livestock, and buildings, the carriage was now surrounded by trees.

Hundreds of them. She had never seen trees in such abundance before. She's seen them and read about them, of course, but her imagination was no match for the real thing.

She saw many of the trees that she's read about, oaks, pines, even a few willows, and saw even more that were unfamiliar to her. The sky scraping foliage passed by at a moderate pace, matching the speed of the horses pulling the carriage, each tree's tall, sturdy, majestic stature, being replaced by another's, the horses' clip clops in the background creating the music of freedom.

Maka inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of trees, a clear blue sky, horses and a winding dirt path. She couldn't help but smile, laying her head on the window, sunlight bathing her in warmth.

Spirit had never seen her look so at peace.

* * *

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, _**fuck**_," Soul cursed, pacing back and forth in his study, just barely tripping on the "useless old books" pile.

"Yer maj-"

"Please, Dylan, let the King vent. Don't you have some duties to attend to?" the maid asked irritably, cutting Dylan off.

Dylan glared at her, upset that she had reminded him of his work. When she still saw him there, she gave him a reprimanding look.

"I ask once more. Do you not have duties to attend to?" the maid questioned, each word coming out as clenched warning.

Dylan squeaked and ran off to finish his chores.

The maid cleared her throat, trying to gain Soul's attention.

"_**What**_," Soul growled, his voice low and dangerous, his sharp teeth glinting and his red eyes glaring in impatience .

The maid stepped back, her demeanor shrinking along with her confidence. Soul saw this and immediately regretted taking his anger out on her. He sighed.

"I apologize," he said, sighing once again. He made his way back to the chair he had been brooding in previously and slowly sat down. He sunk into the plush cushions, calming himself down. "You had something you wanted to say?" Soul questioned, now looking much more like a tired old dog rather than a dangerous war hero.

The maid coughed behind her hand and straightened her posture.

"Would you like for us to begin preparations for the Phoenix Born, your majesty?" she asked, formally, trying not to let Soul's outburst change her view on his majesty.

"Yes, yes, please, I will oversee them shortly, I… I just need a minute or so," Soul stated, a lost look on his face.

"Of course, your majesty," the maid conceded, bowing and then making her way out of the study. At the entrance, she stopped, an idea coming to her. She turned around holding the paneling with one hand and clutching the front of her dress with the other.

"Your majesty?" she asked quietly.

"Yes?" Soul answered tiredly, bent over, head in his hands. He looked like a man that was about to lose his home.

Oh.

"May I be blunt with you once more, your majesty?" she asked a bit more confidently.

"Very well," he said, flippantly.

"You are a good king, your majesty. The people adore you and the servants will always be loyal to you. You have very little to worry about," the maid encouraged, a small smile on her face as she turned around and softly padded away, the sound fading as she walked further down the hallway she.

Soul sighed as he got up, moving to look out the large window on his right.

"It doesn't matter how good of a king I am, I'm still not the Phoenix Born," he muttered dejectedly.

* * *

They had been in the carriage for what seemed like forever.

Okay, so it had only been about two or three days.

But being in a closed, tiny, cramped space with Maka's father, limited reading material (she left her heavier and more interesting books in the second carriage with some of their other luggage. There was many a time she contemplated asking the horseman to stop and wait for the other carriage to catch up, which was only about twenty minutes or so behind, to receive her precious reading materials), and an even more limited patience could understandably make two or three days seem like a lifetime.

And her father would just not stop _talking_. She just wanted to rest a bit before reaching the palace.

"...been to the palace a few times, it's truly beautiful! … I mean, if you can get past the disorienting feeling it gives off at first. Dear Phoenix, I can not count the amount of times I've gotten lost-!"

"Papa, please. I am trying to sleep," she said through clenched teeth.

"O-oh! I am sorry, my darling! Yes, get your rest, you have a big day ahead of you… or night, considering the time… or is it morning? My, we should-" Spirit rambled.

"Papa," Maka growled.

"Right. Sorry. Staying quiet now," he stated, sealing his lips in a zipping motion.

Not too long after, she was jolted awake from the carriage stopping abruptly.

"Hey! Could you be less of an imbecile with the driving please?! My daughter, the _Phoenix Born_, is in here, and you could have hurt her, and furthermore…!"

As her father ranted Maka looked out the window to finally get a look at the palace.

It was majestic. Something only a Phoenix could build. It was tall, as expected of a palace, and made of marble and ivory, shimmering from stones, gems, and gold embedded into it. The palace looked as if dawn was forever rising.

She was more than a little bit ecstatic when the footman opened the carriage door, almost shoving him out of the way to get a closer view of the palace. She stood in awe, her mouth agape and eyes wide as her father rested his hand on her shoulder and whispered into her ear,

"This is all yours."

Maka blinked twice and shook her head, confused.

"Wh-what?" she asked, a bit flustered.

Spirit gazed down lovingly at his daughter, as if he couldn't be more proud of her. "You are the Phoenix Born, Maka. The true ruler of this kingdom," he said grandiosely, his hand lifting from her shoulder to gesture to everything around them.

It hadn't really hit her till now. Being the Phoenix Born didn't mean freedom, it meant a kingdom to rule, people to feed, laws to make, criminals to punish, people to prosecute…

She felt sick.

"But what about the current ruler?" she asked, hoping for some way out of this predicament she was reborn into.

"He will have to step down," her father said, a warm smile still on his face, as he began to lead her into the place.

Maka blanched. She had gone from one cage just to be put into another.

* * *

Soul paced in his throne room, dreading the arrival of the Phoenix Born, many thoughts going through his head.

Maka Albarn.

He had known Spirit had a daughter, but wasn't she very young? Oh Phoenix! Would the fire bird truly pick a young child to rule the kingdom?! Phoenix knows he barely managed doing so at age fifteen, how could a small child ever manage-!

"Your majesty?" a maid said, calling attention to herself. Soul immediately stopped his pacing and looked towards the maid, demeanor tall and confident, but his eyes terrified.

"The Phoenix born has arrived."

Soul straightened his robes and took a deep breath.

"Very well. Thank you. Let her in," he said, his authoritative voice laid on thick. He was a calm, cool, and collected king. He was a calm, cool, and collected king. He was a _calm, cool, and collected king. _

Repeating that in his head didn't help as much as he thought it would.

The maid took her leave, a sign for the palace guards to open the doors to the throne room and to reveal the Phoenix Born.

She was not a small child at all.

She was a full grown woman.

She was beautiful.

Soul barely had time to pick up his jaw to say,

"Welcome to the palace, Phoenix Born."

* * *

Maka hadn't imagined for the king to look so…

...Strange...

No, no, strange wasn't the right word. Yes, he was a bit odd looking with his red eyes, and white hair, and surprisingly young face, but by no means did he look strange. In fact, he was very attractive.

_Very_ attractive.

But, attractiveness aside, he _was_ quite extraordinary looking.

She didn't mean to stare, but the King was the first man, aside from her father, she'd ever really seen that close. (all of the male servants at her father's house were explicitly advised to stay away from her.)

Soul cleared his throat.

"I say, again. Welcome to the palace, Phoenix Born," the King repeated, his tone respectful with an undercurrent of annoyance.

Maka blinked owlishly, shaking her head and hastily curtsied, her gown fluttering around her.

"Thank you, your majesty! It is a great honor to be in the palace," she praised, eyes bright and cheeks rosy.

Soul found it hard, yet easy at the same time, to hate her.

"Yes. Well, it is an even greater honor to be in the presence of the Phoenix Born," he stated, somewhat strained.

Maka gave him an almost concerned stare, so Soul breathed deeply and forcibly put on a convincing smile. Well, however convincing a smile can be when one was looking into the face of the person who was eventually going to take their home.

Even if the face was a surprisingly cute one.

"A warm welcome is extended to you as well, Lord Spirit," Soul said, changing his focus to the Phoenix Born's father.

"Thank you, your majesty," Spirit bowed gracefully, while muttering under his breath, "Takes forever to say hello to a man he's known for years, does he? Oh ho, I see the way he was looking at my Maka, that bastard. I swear, if he lays a hand on her, even a finger…!"

"Father!" Maka hissed. "I can hear you. Any louder and the next kingdom over would be able to as well!"

"But, Maka-" Spirit whispered back before he was interrupted by Soul clearing his throat.

"You have had a long journey from your town and must be exhausted. Everything has been prepared for your arrival, and the maids will lead you to your sleeping quarters. Please, get some rest. Dinner will be soon. If you require anything else, my servants are more than willing to comply to your wishes," Soul stated with finality, nodding his head towards both the Phoenix Born and Spirit before leaving the throne room.

Maka stared after him, in wonder and worry, she couldn't help but notice that the King looked as if everything was crumbling down around him.

"This way, if you will, Phoenix Born."

Maka turned to her right to see a maid standing next to her, her hand out in the direction they were heading, Maka's father already out of the throne room.

Maka nodded and followed, a bit off put by people continuously calling her the Phoenix Born. Where had her name gone? Was she to be known as nothing but the Phoenix Born for the rest of her life? Was that all she was?

"Here is your room, Phoenix Born," the maid stated, a warm smile on her face.

Maka smiled back. "Please, call me Maka."

The maid blinked, not accustomed to being spoken to familiarly. "I- I don't-" she stammered.

Maka looked at her, pleadingly. "Please. I… I don't want to forget who I am in here."

The maid tensed, unsure of how to go about this. She looked into the Phoenix Born's face once more and saw how much she just wanted to be… herself.

"Of course… Maka," the maid stated simply, before walking away.

Maka smiled, yelling a relieved 'thank you' after her before turning to enter the room.

It was gorgeous.

The room was large and surrounded by windows, sunlight spilling through them and touching everything in its reach. The bed was large and circular, amber colored drapings surrounding it, matching the flame embroidered sheets.

She closed the heavy marble doors and leaned against them, taking in a deep breath.

"I refuse to lose myself in here."

* * *

It wasn't long before Maka heard knocking on the door. She stirred, not quite remembering how she had gotten herself in bed after entering the room. She looked out of one of the many windows in the room, and saw that the sun was very close to setting. Had it really been that long?

She stretched and yawned, feeling well relaxed and comfortable, no crick in her neck or pain in her back like sleeping in the carriage for three days had caused. When she was finally awake enough to pay attention to the incessant knocking on her door, she scrambled out of her bed and scurried over to the door, patting down the wrinkles of her gown and running her fingers through her hair before turning the door knob and opening the heavy door (she really needed to build up her strength if she was going to be opening and closing such absurdly heavy doors for the rest of her stay).

Three young palace maids stood outside her door, a cheery smile on all of their faces, gowns, jewels, combs, and brushes piled in their hands.

"Good evening, Pheonix Born! How was your rest?" one of the maids, the shortest one, asked enthusiastically.

Maka was a bit flustered, being greeted so brightly after just waking up, but the warmness was not unwelcome.

Maka smiled, slightly overwhelmed, her eyes bouncing between all three of the bright faces in front of her.

"I-I slept quite well! Thank you! And please, call me Maka," she said, her smile beginning to match the three maids.

"Are you sure, madam?" the tallest of the three asked, the same maid who had led her to her room, smile softer but no less brilliant.

"Yes, please," Maka laughed slightly. Being around this group made her feel like how the main heroes in those books might feel, like she had friends.

"Well, Maka," the maid in the middle stated, trying out the Phoenix's Born name. "We came to get you prepared for dinner," she said, bringing attention to the garments and items in their hands.

"Pr-prepare me for dinner?" Maka asked, a bit confused. "Why, what's wrong with what I've got on?"

The three maids looked at each other, smiles faltering a bit as they seemed to have a whole conversation with their eyes.

"Maka, you are a special guest here tonight! Why, you are just special, in general, madam! It wouldn't be right to let you go down to dinner in the clothes that you have been travelling in!" the maid in the middle explained.

Maka supposed that they were right, she could understand why she may have needed a change of clothes, and of course, a bath. What she didn't understand was why she would need servants to accompany her throughout the process, and she told them so.

The maids looked at each other again and the shorter one simply stated,

"It's because you're special, Maka."

Right.

Maka was special.

The Phoenix Born.

She wondered if that was all she was ever to be.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner was unnervingly quiet.

The maids had dressed Maka in a beautiful red and gold gown, the gold designs starting at her bust and spreading down the front of her dress, trickling out to embroider the train, and placed jewels around her neck (she didn't particularly care for the impromptu ear piercing that had taken place, her ears were very sore now). After they were satisfied with her appearance, they ushered her to the large dining room.

It looked even larger with only the two men sitting down at the hopelessly long and, just like everything else in the palace, beautifully crafted dining table. Both men glared intensely at the other from either end of the room.

When Maka stepped into the room it was charged and thick with tension.

Obviously, someone had said the wrong thing.

It was most likely her father.

Then she was announced, the herald startling the King and her father out of their seats and just plain startling Maka in general.

The King, her father, and whatever servants happened to be in the room at the time, all bowed low towards her. Maka, still not really used to this treatment, stood quite flustered, curtsying quickly as an after thought.

Her father was first to rise from his position, rushing over to his daughter and urging her to take his previous seat,

"Here, my dearest, sit here," he stated softly. His eyes suddenly turned dark as he began to glare at the King again. "I want you nowhere near that idiotic excu- gyahh!"

Maka smiled brightly as she politely declined her father's offer.

Well, only as politely as one could with their heel embedded in their father's foot.

* * *

She sat in the middle on the King's right side, not wanting to (nor having the patience to) deal with her father's antics, nor having the gall to sit right next to the King. At least, not yet.

The food was delicious, but Maka couldn't find the time to enjoy herself due to the deafening silence and the glares that the two males in the room continuously kept throwing at each other.

It was quite annoying.

She tried to make small talk, but every attempt of her opening her mouth to speak with the King ended up with her quickly turning her head to avoid eye contact.

On her umpteenth attempt (she would say she lost count, if only she had been keeping count) of conversation, the King suddenly rose from his seat and excused himself for the night, his food barely touched.

She suddenly felt very disappointed.

Just as he was about to exit through the large double doors being held open for him, the King stopped and turned around to look directly at Maka.

"Phoenix Born?" he called, waiting for her to look at him.

When she returned his gaze, those wide green eyes of hers slightly startled him.

They were so… bright.

He cleared his throat.

"Please meet me in my study at noon. A maid will accompany you there. We have matters to discuss," he stated tersely.

Maka nodded quickly. "Of course, your majesty." Just as Soul turned back around to exit, she called out, "Is that all, your majesty?" For some reason Maka was determined to keep the conversation going. She liked hearing his voice.

The King stood still for a minute, as if contemplating what to say next.

"No. I ask that your father leave his presence out of our meeting, please," he said, his head over his shoulder so that Spirit could see the devious glare in his eye.

"Why you-!" Spirit growled, but he did not get the chance to finish his sentence, not when a silver spoon had suddenly come flying across the room and hit him square in the face.

Soul's eyes widened in shock as he turned his attention to the Phoenix Born, who was standing, arm still out from throwing the spoon. She turned her gaze towards him and smiled brightly, not an ounce of remorse for her previous actions.

"Gladly, your majesty, he will be nowhere near us, if I have anything to say about it," she stated, smile wide, eyebrows drawn down in determination, and green eyes still bright.

This woman was something else.

"Very well," Soul began, trying his hardest to keep his composure and shake the feeling of wanting to smile just as wide as the Phoenix Born was. "Til tomorrow, Phoenix Born."

"Til tomorrow, your majesty," she returned cheerfully, waving slightly.

The King waved back, his rings glinting in the light, much like his teeth when he smiled as he turned away from the Phoenix Born and her mess of a father making his way to his sleeping chamber, doors closing heavily behind him.

* * *

Maka still had her wide smile plastered onto her face until the doors to the dining room closed.

"Well, tonight wasn't a total disaster," she stated aloud, shrugging her shoulders.

Spirit groaned.

Her smile slipped from her face and her eyes turned to slits as she glared dangerously at her sprawled mess of a father.

Spirit had gotten the sense that he should either run or get to his knees and plead endlessly for forgiveness. He didn't know why until he saw his daughter striding towards him, her gait slow and each step she took very deliberate.

There wouldn't be any use in running, might as well start groveling now.

"Maka, darling- uck!" Spirit began, but was interrupted by Maka grabbing him by his collar, fingers tight on his cravat.

"What the _hell_ was all of that?!" she hissed out at him.

"Guh- dear-! I-! I can't-! Breathe!" Spirit barely managed to spit out; Maka had quite a grip.

Maka lifted him by his collar, threw him in the seat he sat in during dinner, and then crossed her arms, impatiently looking at her father.

Spirit tried to situate himself comfortably in the chair while rubbing his throat, attempting to get rid of the sensation of being choked.

"My, my Maka! Who knew you were so-" Spirit said, nervously trying to deflect his daughter's anger and trying to change the subject. This only proved to anger her more as she was suddenly hovering over him, both of her hands resting on the armrests, trapping him.

"...strong…" Spirit squeaked.

"Answer. Now." she snarled.

Spirit blinked, terrified and confused. "M-m-maka, what are you talking about, dearest?" he asked, stumbling over her name, failing horribly at feigning innocence.

Maka's nose flared and her eyes widened in anger, "Ugh, you are the most incompetent-!" She stopped herself, taking a deep breath and stepping away from him. Spirit relaxed a little, now that he had his personal space back.

"What was all of that earlier? Between you and the King? Dear Phoenix, Papa, we've only been here for less than a day and you're already stirring up trouble!" Maka exclaimed, exasperated.

"I was just making sure that he knew that he wasn't to get too close to you, that's all Maka. Papa just wants the best for his baby," Spirit cooed.

Maka stared blankly at him.

He didn't have any time to avoid the solid gold plate she threw at him.

* * *

Soul really didn't know what to think of the Phoenix Born.

During the first year after he reclaimed the palace, many a night he thought about when he would have to face his toughest foe, his greatest enemy, the only person who could really take his home away from him.

At sixteen, he would just think of kicking ass and calling it a day.

As years went on, the threat of the Phoenix Born became no less a threat, but settled into the back of his mind as he focused on the affairs of his kingdom.

And then suddenly for there to be a fire in one of the outer towns of his kingdom, and then a _confirmed_ death… his fears suddenly began to bubble at the back of his throat. Still, he wanted to believe that just because some people died in a fire, (Phoenix, it sounded terrible when he put it _that _way) it didn't mean that one of them would _actually_ be the Phoenix Born. That was until that the _one _person who died in the fire was named and then _seen _not even a week after their death.

Maka Albarn.

The daughter of his Grand Knight and Lord Spirit Albarn. Spirit Albarn's very _young _daughter last time Soul had heard. Not only would he have to deal with his overzealous Grand Knight but also his probably just as crazy, whiny, brat of a daughter.

When he actually saw her, he was floored.

She was a full grown woman, not a day older than his twenty years at least, and she was gorgeous.

He liked to think he wasn't so shallow that he'd let a woman's appearance affect him so much, but he had never seen someone like her before.

Her eyes are what captivated him most. He thought about those eyes all throughout dinner preparations and as he sat to wait for his guests to join him, he still found himself thinking about the Phoenix Born.

Soul sat at the head of the long dining table opposite the large mahogany doors, his hands folded, his chin resting on them, and without any regard for basic table manners, his elbows rested on the dining table.

Spirit entered the room not too long after.

Soul rose to his feet and walked towards Spirit to welcome him as the herald announced his presence (the herald was young and newly appointed, he insisted on announcing the Phoenix Born and her party to dinner, even though it was just dinner between the king and his two guests.)

"Your majesty," Spirit addressed respectfully as he bowed.

"Lord Spirit," Soul said just as respectfully, nodding for Spirit to rise from his position.

The two men stared at each other both standing up straight to reach their tallest height, though Soul was still taller.

"Little brat." Spirit sneered.

"Old man." Soul retorted.

The two glared at each other for a while longer before falling into a spout of giggles that quickly grew into hearty laughs.

Spirit clapped the young king on the back.

"How have you been, my boy?" Spirit asked as he slightly scruffing up Soul's hair.

"Oh, you know, just ruling a kingdom." Soul laughed, shoving Spirit away from him.

"Come, please sit," Soul said, motioning towards the seat closest towards the door. Once Spirit was settled, Soul made his way back to his seat.

"Quite a turn of events, hmm, Soul? _My_ daughter being the Phoenix Born," Spirit stated smugly, swirling the dark red wine in the silver goblet provided for him.

Soul stiffened a bit as he sat, the reality of the situation once again catching up to him. He swallowed the all too familiar sensation of gagging down his throat, and settled into his seat.

"Hmm. Quite."

"So, what are you going to do?" Spirit asked, still looking smug but his tone concerned.

Soul did not like where this conversation was going.

"What am I going to do about what?" Soul asked, the words coming out clenched as he tried to grasp on to some type of semblance of being calm.

"About your living conditions." Spirit stated simply, eyes roving over Soul calculatingly.

Soul stayed silent.

Spirit took a sip of his wine. "You can't just expect to keep living here, really. The rightful heir has returned to reclaim her throne and it'd be wise of you to not put up a fight so-"

"I know very well what would be wise of me. I know very well that I cannot expect to stay nor do I, but I am still needed here. Do not throw me away so carelessly, _Spirit._" Soul said, finding it very hard to control his anger and quickly losing what little patience he had.

Spirit blinked, thrown off by the venom he could hear in Soul's tone. "Of course, Soul, but what about later? My daughter-"

"The _Phoenix Born _needs me more than anyone else right now." Soul spat out at him.

"Oh?"

"Well, who else is going to teach her how to rule a kingdom?"

Spirit squawked, suddenly getting a very disturbing image of his daughter and Soul getting … _close._

"Wh-what about your advisers?! Can they not teach her?!" Spirit asked desperately.

"Possibly… if I had any advisers," Soul grinned smugly, sharp teeth peeking out between his lips. He enjoyed messing with Spirit when he got like this.

"What kind of king doesn't have any advisers?!" Spirit balked.

"The kind who doesn't particularly care for them," Soul answered, his tone dangerously calm. Spirit sensed he was drifting into turbulent waters and quickly sailed back to a much more important matter; his daughter.

"Nevermind that! I see right through you, _your majesty_," Spirit hissed. "This is all just a ploy to get my darling daughter to pity you and marry you so you can keep ruling your precious kingdom!" Spirit yelled, his finger pointing towards Soul accusingly.

"And why would I want to marry someone as plain and boring as your daughter, my good sir?" Soul asked, tone innocent, but his glare scalding.

"What did you just say about my Maka?" Spirit growled.

The two men glared at each other, each trying their best to mentally maim the other. They were startled out of their mental battle by the herald announcing the Phoenix Born's presence.

As Soul bowed, he thought how he never imagined for his greatest foe to be so beautiful.


	6. Chapter 6

Maka woke up to the bright rays of the late morning sun on her face and the smell of savory breakfast meats and jasmine tea. She stretched and yawned, sitting up in the large, circular bed and turned her head towards the delicious scent of food. On the ivory night stand by her bed, there was an assortment of meats, poached eggs and biscuits all on a silver platter. The tea sat in a quaint little porcelain teacup.

Her stomach grumbled.

She decided to stop admiring how delicious the food looked and instead chose to taste how delicious it was.

After she had eaten the last of her eggs and sipped the last of her tea, Maka rose from her bed and made her way to one of the large windows in her room and sat on the windowsill.

The view was breathtaking. She had read of many far off kingdoms in her books, with their rolling hills, their shimmering coastlines, or tall, tall, mountains, but actually seeing the expanse of the kingdom, what would soon be _her _kingdom…

It was a bit overwhelming.

She sat in silence for bit, just thinking about how much her life had changed in the short period of a few days, and enjoying the warmth of the ever climbing sun on her face.

It was at that moment that the same three maids from last night burst into the room, breathing heavily, clutching onto a jade green gown.

"Madam, we apologize for our tardiness, but we must make haste if we are going to make sure you on time for your meeting with the King!" the tallest of the three declared.

Without much warning, the maids pounced on to her, dragging her to the washroom to begin the process of making the Phoenix Born presentable.

Maka sighed.

She had been having such a relaxing morning, too.

* * *

Soul was looking out one of the windows in his study when she walked in.

"If I had known you would provide me with so many gowns, I would have packed more books!" Maka stated jokingly.

Soul turned around to face the Phoenix Born, fully prepared to make a snarky remark.

Dear Phoenix, she truly was radiant.

The simple jade green gown he had picked out for her was thin and flowy and fit her perfectly, seemingly making her eyes appear even more vibrant, her hair assembled into a loose braid, decorated with a single green ribbon.

Soul swallowed his spit, trying to regain his composure.

"Do you not find the gowns desirable?" Soul asked calmly, his eyes glinting, indifferently. It wasn't the snark he was originally trying to achieve, but it was something.

"Oh no, that is not what I meant at all!" Maka exclaimed, waving her hands, as if she were trying to remove her previous statement from existence. "The gowns are lovely, truly, and they are quite comfortable. I am very grateful, " Maka finished quietly, with a small sheepish smile.

He didn't know how he was going to do this, how he was going to keep up this act, because more and more by the second that's exactly what it was becoming. An act. The disdain and fear he had felt for the unknown face of the Phoenix Born had quickly began to melt into confusion as he began to see her as less of a threat, but more as a person.

But, she _was_ still a threat.

"Well, I am very glad." Soul stated as he turned around, once more gazing out the window.

Maka wasn't too sure what she should do. She stood still in the doorway, wanting to move forward, wanting to move closer to him. He was an anomaly to her, this king, this _man _who seemed not to care about anything one way or another, but she saw something in him, saw deep pride this man took in taking care of his kingdom, his home, his people, and she sensed something else. She wasn't too sure what, but it felt like..._anxiousness. _ Anxiousness for what she wasn't too sure, but then again she also wasn't sure how she was able to feel all of this in the first place.

"_Maybe it has something to do with me being Phoenix Born…? Were other Phoenix Borns reborn with special abilities?"_

"Phoenix Born?" the King asked, his faced turns towards her, his eyebrow slightly raised in confusion.

"Yes, your majesty?" Maka asked, shaking herself out of her thoughts.

"Are you waiting for an invitation?" he asked.

Maka's cheeks flushed a pretty pink and she began to sputter, unnervingly similar to the way her father does.

It was very difficult for him to contain his mirth.

Soul raised his hand to gain her attention and to stop her babbling. She stopped, her eyes wide and face covered in embarrassment from her rampant, nervous chatter.

Soul let a smug grin slip on to his face as he spoke. "Please, come in. Have a seat."

She shuffled quickly towards a seat near the bookcases, her embarrassment quickly forgotten once she got lost in the numerous amounts of book binds neatly stacked close together.

"Wow…" she breathed out in astonishment.

"Ah yes, my book collection," Soul stated, startling her, not noticing when the King had made his way towards a seat next to her. "However, I'm not much of a reader, though I assume you are?" His eyes quickly roved over his collection and then landed on to her.

She perked up at the question, and began to smile widely. "Yes! I love to read! I meant what I said earlier, I really would have brought more books with me if I hadn't used up all my available space with _apparently _unneeded dresses!" she finished with a bright smile, her eyes twinkling with laughter.

Soul coughed into his hands in order to cover his laugh, though he wasn't quite successful in hiding his smile.

"Well, I believe this is a good start to place as any, don't you think?" he stated, then he rose, browsing through the book cases. Once he found what he was looking for he hummed, pulled the impossibly large and most likely very heavy tome out from it's place carrying it back to where Maka sat, placing it on a nearby table.

"Now, tell me. How much do you know about being the Phoenix Born?"

* * *

"_Now, tell me. How much do you know about being the Phoenix Born?"_

Maka paused to think, the question striking her as something odd. Anyone in this kingdom could tell you the legend of the Phoenix, and anyone could tell you how the kingdom was built, and also rebuilt. It was the story that mothers retold time after time to their young ones to put them to sleep. The story of the Phoenix and the Phoenix Born was a tale as old as time.

"Well, your highness, what doesn't anyone know about the legend of the Phoenix?" she asked.

"No. I didn't ask you what you know about the Phoenix. I asked you what you know about the Phoenix _Born_," he emphasized.

She opened her mouth to speak, a smug look in her eyes.

"Besides the heir to the throne part," the king added quickly.

Her mouth snapped shut. She began to open it again, but she quickly shut it when she realized that she had nothing to say. Soul vaguely noticed how much she looked like a fish out of water.

While Soul was trying his best to keep himself from laughing loudly, Maka was stuck in a stupor. She rattled her brain trying to drudge up any, _any _information she could, but kept finding herself empty handed. Now that she really thought about it, she knew _nothing _about being the Phoenix Born.

She suddenly felt like a failure.

She snapped out of her befuddled disposition at the sound of turning pages, she looked up to see the King flipping rapidly through pages before humming contently and placing his finger on the page.

"You know about the ancient rule, correct?" he asked.

"_A kingdom ruled by fire, An heir to rule from fire's ash. For those who die in flames, Shall rise again to claim. The throne,_" she stated rotely from memorization. The ancient rule was again something that everyone knew, the ancient rule reinforced the truth of the the legend and vice versa.

He nodded and then pushed the tome towards her. "Okay. So you know the law and the legend, but not what it means to you as the Phoenix Born. So, read this."

Maka looked at him quizzically, not entirely sure where his highness was going with all of this. He pushed the book towards her once more, an irritated look on his face. She looked at him briefly, confusion spreading onto her own face as she pulled the book towards her and began to read.

Her jaw dropped.

"Is this what I think it is?" Maka asked excitedly, almost bouncing up and down in her seat.

He smirked dangerously, his sharp teeth glinting mischieviously. He noticed her reaction to his teeth, a quick double take and a short, quiet gasp, but nothing more.

Soul didn't want to admit how happy that made him.

"Why don't you keep reading and find out?" Soul said, sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms and smirking smugly.

She smiled brightly and began to delve into all of the stories of all of the Phoenix Borns before her.

* * *

Soul woke up with a snort.

He had the weirdest crick in his neck… and was he drooling?

Where was he anyway? What time was it?

Soul raised his head from his arms and yawned as he sleepily took in his surroundings.

Ah.

So, he was still in the study.

His stomach grumbled.

And he had missed lunch.

"Oh good! You are awake!" a voice said cheerfully and _loudly._

And he was currently in the presence of the Phoenix Born…

With drool dribbling down his chin.

Soul hastily sat up and wiped his face of tiredness and drool, trying his best to look somewhat presentable.

"I… um, yes… how long was I asleep for?" he finished lamely.

"Quite a while!" she said brightly. "I've almost finished reading this book and I have a few questions-"

Soul's stomach growled loudly.

They both looked at each other with wide eyes. Maka tried to hide her laughter behind her hand, while Soul tried to hide his embarrassment behind his.

"Should I go ask a maid to bring you something to eat?" the Phoenix Born asked innocently enough (though he saw that twinkle of snark in her eye...he would know.)

"I-I..." Soul stuttered sheepishly, his red eyes wide in embarrassment.

The Phoenix Born giggled and waved over a young palace maid that had been checking up on the study and its inhabitants. She and Soul requested snack and the maid quickly went to retrieve some.

"So..." the king coughed into his hand. "What were these questions you had for me?"

Soul wasn't quite prepared for the rapid fire speed in which the Phoenix Born asked questions, but he tried his best to keep up. He was doing quite well, but some of the questions that the Phoenix Born asked her were surprising, and something he would have never thought about had she not brought attention to it. Time passed quickly as the King and the Phoenix Born searched for answers and it was soon dark, they decided to continue their search for information and had dinner in the King's study (which greatly upset Spirit; _where did that white-haired brat of a king get off keeping his daughter from seeing him __**all day**__?)._

The Phoenix Born was flipping through another thick book on all previous Phoenix Borns as she ate, when she found something very interesting.

"Your majesty?"

Soul looked up from his food, books aside in favor of eating. "Yes?"

The Phoenix Born smiled softly at him, causing him to raise his eyebrow at her in confusion and slight irritation. He was _really _hungry, the snack they had earlier really did little to quell his hunger. He looked down at the book that the Phoenix Born had shoved towards him and barely managed not to choke on his food. In the book, the faces of his parents and Wes were staring back at him.

It had been so long.

"You truly had a beautiful family," the Phoenix Born said tenderly. Maka looked up and gasped a bit in shock, the King's face was twisted in hurt and agony before it quickly converted into a steel coldness.

"I think that will be all for today," he said calculatingly, roughly getting up from the table, shaking the glasses and spilling some wine, and made his way to the double doors.

Maka sat in shock, the whole reality of the situation not settling onto her until she saw that the King had opened the doors to the study.

"Wait! Your majesty-!" she yelled, scrambling to get up, for what reason she wasn't too sure.

She wouldn't find out either, the doors to that opportunity slamming angrily in her face.

* * *

Maka's mouth hung open as the loud thud of the heavy doors settled in the King's large study. She stood there, her confusion slowly growing into irritation.

What was _wrong_ with him!?

* * *

What was wrong with her!?

Her and all those damn questions!

Soul stormed through the long, confusing hallway, causing the servants to quickly scurry out of his way. The closer Soul got to his room the angrier he became, all that pent-up frustration causing the King to violently swing open the doors to his room, and slamming them in the same fashion.

He wanted to hit something, or scream, or both, he just wanted this white hot rage that had completely blind sided him to _go away._

His eyes wandered subconsciously to his piano, the covered keys of the large, shiny black instrument calling to him, calling to let the madness override him and spill into the notes that would sing out his pain and frustration.

He ignored it.

He pushed down all these out of control emotions, all these feelings where he was just feeling _too much_.

He didn't want to feel at all.

He needed everything, _everyone_ to just go away, just for awhile.

He sighed, taking off his robes, before going to lock his bedroom doors. He walked sluggishly towards his bed, dumping himself onto it and then curling up into a ball.

He just needed to be alone.

The King fell asleep, lulled by the ghostly sounds of his brother's violin.

* * *

Maka sat on the windowsill of one of the large windows in her room, her foot tapping in irritation.

For the past week or so, the King had holed himself up in his room, leaving her to deal with her bumbling idiot of a father playing around with the maids, and maids who just wanted to play dress up with her.

Maka pouted. She had been looking forward to her lessons, too.

Even if the teacher was a snarky, ill-tempered asshole.

She sat around for a bit longer, tapping her nails, tapping her feet, huffing like a horse, waiting, waiting, and _waiting…_

She stood up suddenly, brushing down the skirt of her night gown before striding purposefully towards her bedroom door. She pulled it open only to reveal a small, dark haired maid, fist raised in preparation to knock. She quickly pulled her hand down and bowed lowly.

"Good morning, Phoenix Born. How may I assist you, Phoenix Born?" the young girl asked quickly.

Maka ground her teeth, annoyed. She stared at the young girl, who was still bowing, and then took a deep breath. She held the young maid by her shoulders (which seemed to surprise her. What? Had no one touched her shoulders before?) and brought her to an upright position.

"Maka."

"Excuse me, Pho-"

"Maka. My _name_ is Maka. Please, use it as such."

The young maid stared at Maka in something that she could only describe as pure unadulterated confusion that slowly melted into adoration.

"As you wish… Maka," the young girl said, smiling giddily.

"Thank you. Now, I have a question for you."

"Yes! Anything for the Pho- um- I mean… Anything for you, Maka!"

Maka didn't know whether to roll her eyes or smile at the young girl. However, looking at the bright twinkle in her eyes, she couldn't help but to do the latter.

"Could you help me find the King's study?"

"Oh I would love to Miss Maka-!"

"Great!" Maka stated enthusiastically. "What are we waiting for? Lead the way!"

The young girl looked at her nervously, her eyes shifting from her feet to Maka's face and back. "You must let me finish, Miss Maka."

Maka raised her eyebrows, a bit taken aback by the bold statement coming from the quiet girl. "Well, continue then. my deepest apologies for interrupting."

The maid smiled softly before her face settled into a serious expression. "I would love to take you to the King's study but... I can not."

"Well, why not?" Maka asked flabbergasted.

"I am not very familiar with that part of the palace, most of my assignments are in the bedroom halls and the dining room...and…"

Maka squinted her eyes at that. What was going on?

"...And… what?"

The young girl sighed and fidgeted nervously under Maka's gaze. "The King made it very clear that you were to not enter his study without his presence."

* * *

"Where is he?! That insolent, arrogant, smug face, slobbering mess we call a king! Where. Is. He?!"

For hours, Maka had been running around this _maze_ of a palace looking for his _"majesty"_, snarling out insults and pounding on any doors she found, the servants quickly moving out of her way, trying their best to avoid the rampage of the Phoenix Born.

Maka huffed and huffed as she came to an intersection, looking right and left, unsure of where to go. She sighed, before standing up straight and taking a moment to catch her breath. It was then she suddenly felt... _something._ She tried to focus on it, but the feeling would always just escape her, whipping away into the imaginary.

But she knew she wasn't imagining this.

She stood still, closed her eyes and focused on her breath, breathing in and out, intent on nothing except existing.

And there it was again, that… presence...

She began to walk towards it. Behind her closed eyes, she was shown the way to her destination.

The King's bedroom.

She wasn't even going to think about the inappropriate implications of that thought.

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in front of two large mahogany doors, her calm demeanor gone.

She curled both of her hands into fist and began to furiously pound onto the doors. Shortly thereafter, the King swung them open with a great amount of strength, face already curled up into a snarl.

"I asked not to be dis-" Soul stopped himself as realized _who_ was at his door.

If possible, he began to snarl even more.

"Go back to your room," he ordered, moving to slam the doors in her face before she quickly slipped through them.

"First and foremost, you are _not_ my father, thank the Phoenix. And I have questions that need answering!" she shouted at him.

"I do not wish to answer any," he growled at her quietly before walking off further into his large room.

Maka squawked indignantly. "I don't care if you don't want to teach me about being the Phoenix Born, but what _right_ do you have to refuse me the tools I need to do it myself!"

Soul scoffed. "It's my study, I can do what I want with it."

"You can not actually be serious?! What is wrong with you?!"

"What is wrong with ME?!"

"Well, I certainly believe I did not stutter!"

"Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me…"

"LANGUAGE!"

"FUCK YOU!"

Maka stepped back, taken aback by his volume. "I don't understand! Everything was just fine the other day-!"

"And then you ruined it! _Phoenix Born,_" he spat out.

"My. Name. Is. _Maka."_

Silence filled the room as the two glared at each other.

"I know."

"_Good,_" she growled " Then use it...Soul."

It was Soul's turn to be taken aback. He hadn't heard anyone use his actual name in _years_, even if it was said with a considerable amount of annoyance.

They both sighed, relaxing noticeably.

"Look, I- You can go into my study if you want, just… I need to be alone," Soul said dejectedly.

"You've been _alone_ for almost two weeks now."

He took in a sharp breath. _Had it really been that long?_

Maka's features softened as she saw the look on his face and stepped closer to him, reaching to touch his arm. He moved away from her.

She looked at him sadly.

"No one should be alone for that long."

Soul scoffed and looked towards his piano.

"I'm used to it."


	7. Chapter 7

"_I'm used to it."_

His words echoed in the large room, tearing at Maka's heart with each reverb. She wanted to say something, _anything... _but she didn't really know what _to _say.

She felt so helpless.

It startled her when she suddenly began to hear the plinking keys of a piano, Maka looked over to see Soul now standing in front of the musical instrument, his fingers barely grazing the keys.

She took this time to actually look at Soul, and her heart seemed to break a little bit more. His hair was a mangled mess and the bags under his eyes told of what little sleep he actually got, if any.

Soul sat down on the piano bench and gently ran his hands down the expanse of the piano's keys. He exhaled shakily.

"It's been so long."

And then he began to play.

And she was overcome with this heavy sadness, this _turmoil_.

But it wasn't coming from her.

A sharp cord that harmonized with the deep, trembling melody made her breath hitch, and that was when she realized that these feelings, these feelings that were just looking for a way _out, _were coming from the man pouring out his soul, his entire being, into this song.

"This is who I am," he says, his playing beginning to calm down, the anger and frustration ebbing for a bit, but the sadness still remaining. "This palace, my _home, _everything I am is here."

He sighs after playing his final note, placing the fall board back over the keys. It startles him when he feels her cool hand over his. He follows the lines and curves of her arm up to her face until he finally focuses on her eyes.

Those green, _green_ eyes.

"No," she states simply.

"You are so much more."

* * *

A cloaked figure sat in a cave, the cave's darkness giving way slightly to the light of the crystal orb the figure sat in front of. The figure picked up the crystal ball and smashed it hard against the ground, paying no heed to the shards embedded in their were much too focused on the image that she had seen in the seeing glass.

The Phoenix Born and Eater getting _way_ too comfortable with each other.

The cloaked figure sighed and rose from their crouched position. The figure stretched out her limbs, revealing smooth white arms, decorated with two black tattoos.

Both of them snakes.

The figure reached up and pulled the cloak of their hood off of their head, revealing short blond hair, sake for two long tendrils that twisted down the length of their chest, the end of the strands barely grazing their breasts.

She took a deep breath.

And then she was gone.

Racing at the speed of her thoughts to her destination.

Medusa really was quite impressed.

When she found out that a girl named Maka had been reborn into the Phoenix Born, she, admittedly, was very worried. But then she remembered who the current ruler was. If she knew anything about Eater, it was that he would never _eve_r let anyone take the home that he had fought her and her minions so hard for.

She never did forgive him for eating their souls, they could've been useful to her.

Medusa had really been banking on Soul refusing the Phoenix Born. The raw untapped power of the current Phoenix Born and the rage and madness of the Death Scythe? It would have been a battle for the kingdom that would have actually _destroyed_ the thing the Phoenix loved so much.

Without her even having to lift a finger.

But she wasn't expecting _this._

She had seen Eater's madness, had almost died from it. She had seen the way he could get when things were out of his control, his desperation, his fury, and she _knew _that in his heart of hearts, he wanted to _end_ the Phoenix Born.

But, what she saw today…

There was something within the Phoenix Born that calmed down Eater's rage, and neither of them knew it and Medusa couldn't quite figure out what it was either.

She had finally reached her destination, an abandoned castle deep in the woods, vines older than time wrapping themselves around the old, gray stones and pillars. Medusa wasted no time running inside.

"We have a problem," she stated, after entering a bedroom, startling all but one of the inhabitants in it.

"Does it have something to do with Lady Arachne? Has her location been compromised?" A short man, fondly nicknamed _Mosquito,_ asked frantically.

"No. My sister is fine," she answered snappily, her attention diverting to the body lying on the large, musty bed. Arachne was just as beautiful as the day the Phoenix cast the spell of eternal slumber on her. Medusa's snake-like eyes turned into slits.

Damn woman refused to let go of her looks.

"Then what's the problem?" another male voice who belonged to one named Giriko asked, more nonchalantly, shaking Medusa out of her thoughts.

"I was wrong."

The two men just stared at her.

"Eater is not going to kill the Phoenix Born like I thought he would. There's been an… interesting development."

"Like?" Giriko asked impatiently.

"I can't really explain, but… she calms him down. His madness seems to subside when she is around him."

"What?!"

"How is that even possible?"

"I don't know," Medusa stated. "I would have to observe them-" Giriko groaned loudly, interrupting her.

"Oh, she doesn't know! You were the one who planned this whole thing! You created some cockamaimey terriost "Phoenix Born Only Rulers" group, killed hundreds of our men, let the damn kid take back the kingdom, didn't kill the Phoenix Born yourself when you had the chance, all because you said that the madness of Eater killing the Phoenix Born and destroying the kingdom would be enough to wake up the old bitch!"

"Do not refer to the Lady with such vulgar language!" Mosquito yelled.

"Aw, shut it you old fuck!" Giriko roared, raising from his seated position.

As the two men revved up, Medusa just stared blankly at them, growing increasingly annoyed at the ruckus they were making. The snakes on her arms began to slither and hiss. When the two males turned their attention back to Medusa, both wondering what all the hissing was about, they were surprised, to say the least when they saw two large, _live_ snakes winding down her arms.

Medusa snickered.

"I guess we're going to have to create our own madness, aren't we?"


	8. Chapter 8

Maka awoke to the sound of rustling leaves and the feeling of sunlight streaming on her face.

She sat up and stretched her arms above her head, yawning as she did so, reaching out to the bedside armoire and picking up the tea that had been left for her only moments prior to her waking up (it was still very hot, almost unbearably so) before she made her way over to her favorite window in her room and sat on it's sill. As she enjoyed the scenery and waited for her tea to cool, reveling in it's minty scent, she closed her eyes and let the warmth of the sun wash over her.

Several months have passed since that day he played for her. The melody followed Maka everywhere she went, always in the back of her mind.

It was very comforting.

Since that day, the two of them had become closer, the tension between them no longer there.

Well, at least not of the malicious sort.

Maka blushed as she remembered what happened a few hours ago. They were both in the study room, Maka diligently taking notes from a book on the laws of the land. There had been several she hadn't even known existed, nor _why_ they existed. Was it really necessary to have a law about the distance that should be maintained between a horse's rear and it's owner? Or what day a horse cannot cross the road? What was with all the laws on horses any way?

As she wrote furiously, she felt Soul come up behind her and drape himself around her shoulders, his face unnervingly close to hers as he read and pointed out certain laws to her. There was one law in particular that had her stumped (it really wasn't helping that she could feel his hot breath on her collarbone) and as he was explaining, his eyes found their way to hers and Maka could swear her heart skipped a beat or two.

She had always known his eyes were red, but not this warm ruby with flecks of garnet, details one would only notice up close.

And they seemed to be getting closer.

Her eyes flickered down to his lips (those thin, _pink_ lips she wanted so desperately on hers), and she saw him do the same to her, felt herself being _pulled_ to him.

It was at that moment that her father burst in through the doors, several servants trailing behind him, trying their best to keep Spirit away from the study.

It was much harder to keep him from mauling the king.

Maka sighed heavily at the memory.

Her father was supposed to go back to their village last night, was supposed to go back _over three months ago. _But _somehow, _he just kept finding excuses to stay, and what he walked in on last night did not help.

What exactly _did _her father walk in on? She wasn't too sure herself. Yes, there had been some teasing and what could be considered innocent flirtation going on between herself and Soul, but nothing like this.

It scared her, just a bit.

Male contact was not something of a norm for her, and it wasn't only due to the insane lengths her father went to keep men - of all ages - out of her range. He really didn't need to, though. His actions were enough warning to Maka.

She had been convinced all men were pigs.

Still was, actually.

But, Soul…

With all his broodiness and that _annoying_ smirk of his…

He really was like no other man like she had known before.

She honestly didn't know how she felt about that.

* * *

A few rooms over, Spirit was pacing along the expanse of his guest sleeping chambers, muttering wildly to himself, causing the servants packing his bags for him to send nervous, wary looks his way.

"Kick me out, _huh_. Overstaying my welcome, you say? I'll show you an overstayed welcome!" the red-haired man growled lowly.

"Well. To be fair, Lord Spirit. You _did_ say you were going to leave quite a while ago-"

"I know what I said! Who asked for your opinion, anyway!?" Spirit bellowed at a sweet maid who was known for her wit and snark (as well as her large chest).The maid jumped at his volume, glaring at him before scurrying off to pack away his toiletries.

Spirit sighed, sitting down on the plush, round bed, his hands running over his face and through his hair.

He didn't want to leave.

Obviously.

He was worried about leaving his precious, beautiful daughter, with that... that... _beast._

But if Spirit were to be honest, he knew he could trust Soul, knew Soul wouldn't do anything to Maka that she wouldn't consent to.

That's what worried him.

He wasn't worried that Maka was beginning to show interest in… romance, nor did it worry him that her inexperience with men in general would cause her to make decisions that she would later regret. She was an intelligent young woman and she knew how to handle herself (he had enough bruises and bumps from objects that she's thrown at him to prove it).

He was worried about the life she would have to adapt to while living with Soul.

Though Maka wouldn't think so, Soul was almost like a son to Spirit. Spirit was the first person to see the aftermath of the palace after the Battle for the Phoenix Throne, and he was the first to pick up the the remains of Soul's psyche and put him back together again.

He didn't know if Maka would be ready for that.

Spirit had seen Soul at his absolute worst, and though he knew Maka had a beautiful soul and a kind heart, he wasn't sure if she would be able to handle the beast within.

His teeth were not merely there for decoration.

"You're all packed, my lord," announced an older male servant as he stood stiffly in front of the hunched over flame-haired man. Only the sound of the other attendants shuffling Lord Spirit's things to the carriages were the servant's answer

"Lord Spirit-"

"I heard you," Spirit grumbled sulkily, and sighed.

The servant blinked owlishly, his eyebrows showing his concern and confusion.

"Do… Would you like help getting up, my lord?" the elder man asked cautiously, his body still stiff and straight, but this may have been more out of nervousness than formality.

Spirit snapped his up, looking at the man as if he had grown another pair of eyes, "What? Why would I-?" Spirit stopped himself, too worried and upset to gather up the energy to yell at a servant that was only doing his job. "Please, just… leave me alone for a few minutes."

The servant nodded his head but stayed firmly in his position, concern for the young lord obvious in his features.

"Of course, my lord. But, may I ask what troubles you?" he asked lowly.

"What do you think?" Spirit snapped quickly. "I'm leaving my daughter in the hands of someone who single handedly defeated an army and destroyed a tyrant with his bare hands and a farming scythe!" he yelled. After a moment's pause, Spirit deflated and ran his hands through his hair. "I… I'm just worried about her and I need her to be safe… she's the only thing I have that matters," he whispered softly. Spirit jumped slightly at the feeling of a cool, thick hand resting on his shoulder. He looked up to see the older servant smiling down warmly at him.

"Then maybe, you should tell her that, my lord."

Spirit looked down at his lap, focusing on his hands that resided there, before he made them into fists. He shot up with renewed energy and a twinkle in his eye. "You're right! Thank you! Thank you for everything!" He shook the older man's hand vigorously and ran off to go find his daughter, his squealing and shouting of her name fading quickly.

The servant gave a wary smile before going around the room to make sure that everything was tidy; setting a picture back in place, cleaning a small smudge on the glass window, and other small mundane tasks. During this, he found a small comb that obviously belonged to Spirit, if the vibrant red strands of hair stuck in it were any indication. He picked up the comb made of silver and encrusted with emeralds, from it's size, it looked as if it were made for Spirit's daughter when she was an infant.

The servant's smile grew wider, almost seeming to split his face open as fangs began to appear and a forked tongue began slither it's way out of the side of his mouth.

"Perfect."

The servant's pupils were blown wide and then transformed into slits as he carefully removed each strand of hair before breaking the delicate looking comb to pieces, the dark _dark_ red blood running down the length of his arm.

"I hope you said all you needed to say to your daughter, Spirit~" Medusa's voice cooed towards the strands of hair in the hand of the body she took over, the dark eyes of his eyes turning gold.

"Today will be the last time you ever see her again."


	9. Chapter 9

Since he was a young boy, Soul kept to himself, especially after the death of his parents and brother. His grandmother watched in increasing sadness, as the light from his eyes seemed to dim with each year he grew older. The young boy who reminded her so much of her daughter and helped her love her son in law grew up into this emotionally deprived young man, hell bent on taking back the palace.

And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop him.

For years, he trained with some of the greatest masters in all types of fighting, from hand-to-hand combat to mass weapon use.

And he believed his grandmother didn't suspect a thing.

But she knew.

She knew that when he returned inside her large estate for supper, that the bruises on his face were not from tending to the livestock.

She knew his sore muscles were not from riding horses.

She knew those days that where only his room was the one to see his tears, she knew the pain didn't come from taking a hard fall; sometimes training wasn't the cause either.

And though Soul believed that he was subtle, that his excuses made sense, that he had all his bases covered, he couldn't say that he was too surprised to see his grandmother walk into his room the exact moment he was going to run away.

The two stared at each other for a long time, Soul still remembers suppressing the shivers and the feeling of utter dread he got looking into eyes much too much like his own. But, what she said next did make him blink twice.

"Dear Phoenix… You are so much like your father it's astounding." Her smile, surrounded by the marks of crows and crescent moons, was small and soft.

Soul didn't understand.

"You hated my father," he stated bluntly.

Her smile upturned slightly to the side and her eyes were warm. "What gave you that idea, my dear?"

He shrugged.

His grandmother moved closer to him, putting her small, dainty hands covered in flower-like foldings on his shoulders, prompting him to remove his leg from outside the window.

"Soul," she began, her voice velvet and soothing like his mother's favorite drink. "Your father was stubborn and at times very cold. Once he set his mind to something you could not get him to change it. Oh dear Phoenix, the arguments we would have!" She sighed, her words loaded with mirth and nostalgia.

But for Soul, the memory of his deceased family only brought on the pain and panic from that night of the invasion.

His eyebrows drew down in confusion and hurt; he didn't understand. "Grandmother, why-"

"But he loved your mother. And he helped her make two wonderful boys, who he also loved," she said cutting him off. She bent down to look him straight in the eye,two pairs of molten ruby and garnet meeting the other, never disconnecting.

"And I know he did all he could to protect your mother and you boys."

At this, Soul's eyes began to water, his sobbing sounding foreign to his ears and becoming much louder and distinct as he felt his grandmother's soft bosom against his face. His arms slammed around her waist as she stroked her fingers through his hair.

As he began to quiet down, Soul stepped back from his grandmother and wiped his eyes roughly.

"I… I have to do this, grandmother…" Soul sniffled, straightening his back and trying to stand tall.

He really was the perfect blend of his parents.

She wiped a tear from his cheek and rested her hand there, her own eyes watery.

"I know."

Soul placed his hand on top of the elder woman's own.

"Your father would be proud. They all would be."

He nodded, his eyebrows drawn down in determination. He moved away from her, moving towards the window.

"Wait," she let out suddenly, stopping him right as he swung his leg over the window sill. He looked at her, his young, boyish face set in a perpetual pout, one of his eyebrows raised, silently asking her why she stopped him and impatiently waiting for her question.

"You are going without a weapon?" she asked incredulously.

He only smirked, the action reminding Camille of the days her daughter would run off with the serious looking apprentice whom she soon called son in law, his teeth glinting.

"I'll find something on the way."

Camille couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sure you will."

She hugged him one last time tightly, barely able to keep her voice from shaking as she gave her parting words.

"You reclaim your home." She moved her face to look him in the eyes, and continued. "But once you do, let others in." And with that, she gave him one last squeeze and stepped back.

He nodded at her, then jumped out of his window, running as fast as he could as soon as his nimble feet touched the ground.

He didn't understand what his grandmother meant, when she said to let others in after reclaiming the throne. For years, whenever he thought of her, the words would run along in his head, a record of a velvet, smooth melody shrouded in cryptic messages and concern.

This was the first song he couldn't understand.

That is… until _she_ came along.

She with her fire and vigor and intense love for knowledge of any kind. Dear Phoenix, she went through more books in one day than he had ever gone through in one month. She was bright, light, and warm. She made him want to do better, she was there to hold his hand through nightmares, she was there to hold him together after his own psyche broke him apart.

In the months that she lived at the palace, it was easy to say that she has become his best friend.

And possibly more.

He couldn't really explain it, but when she stayed with him after playing that horrific song for her, he felt he finally understood what his grandmother was trying to tell him.

"Good morning!" Maka greeted as she walked into the study.

Soul smiled at her, warm and carefree. "Good morning."

She smiled brightly, her mouth wide and he couldn't help but feel bad for the sun; everytime she smiled like that she always put it to shame.

"However," he began as he strode over to her, stopping only a few feet in front of her, close enough to see the light colored sun kissed dots on her face. "You do realize it is afternoon?" he asked smugly, eyebrow raised and grin large.

Her face bloomed into a color so pink, roses seemed to blanch in comparison. And then she hit him, a simple punch to the shoulder he wished he was only pretending to wince about.

"Shut up," she said quickly and indignantly, brushing past him to sit in her usual seat. Soul just laughed and she smiled behind her hand, still trying and failing at feigning her annoyance with him.

For the first time, the world didn't feel like it was going to crumble around him.

"Urrghah! What the hell are we waiting for?! I'm tired of sitting around doing jack shit!"

"My. The people of your time have quite a vulgar language."

"Shut up, you old geezer."

"Please, do not call me that."

"But you are old!" Giriko paused to laugh loudly. "You're almost as old as that bitch taking up the only good bed!"

"DO NOT REFER TO LADY ARACHNE WITH SUCH VULGAR LANGUAGE."

"FUCK YOU."

Mosquito sputtered, stunned into momentary silence, before growling out in anger, "SHE SAVED YOUR LIFE."

"DOESN'T MEAN SHE'S NOT OLD."

Medusa honestly didn't know why she put up with this.

"While it is amusing to watch you two foreplay-"

"Hey! That's-" Giriko interrupted loudly.

"We do have much more important matters at hand." Medusa continued, side eyeing Giriko irritatedly.

"Did you get what you needed?" Mosquito inquired, curious to find out what Medusa had risked their lives and this whole operation for.

Medusa giggled slightly. "Hmph. Did I get it? The poor oaf practically handed it over to me," she said as she held up the clump of red hair in her hand reverently.

The room fell silent.

"You went… to the palace… almost compromised our whole mission… FOR A FUCKING CLUMP OF HAIR?!" Giriko yelled.

Medusa looked at him blankly, one eyebrow raised.

"I hate to say this… but I agree with Giriko," Mosquito stated quietly.

"Finally! The old geezer starts to make sense for once!" Giriko shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. Mosquito threw him a look as the other man continued to mumble under his breath about dumb witches and stupid clumps of hair.

Mosquito huffed and returned his attention to Medusa, her stare unwavering.

He certainly knew there was no mistake in Medusa being Lady Arachne's sister.

"I'm sorry Lady Medusa-"

"Please don't call me that. I'm not my sister."

Mosquito smiled nervously, not really understanding the dislike Medusa had for her sister especially since she was trying so hard to break the spell she was under.

He cleared his throat. "Right, right. Uhm, Medusa, I don't see how a clump of hair is going to bring back Lady Arachne. How is this enough madness to awaken her?"

Medusa smiled softly, her half lidded eyelids unable to hide the cynical mayhem in her viper like eyes.

"Well, why don't we find out?" she said, almost sweetly, as she began circling around Mosquito. "You see my dear Mosquito, I believe I've been looking at the texts all wrong. We don't need some big event of madness to awaken Arachne. We actually need love and happiness, as _sappy_ as it sounds."

Mosquito looked at her from the corner of his eye, cautiously. "Oh?"

"Yes! Interesting isn't it?" she stated, her hands clapping in excitement

"Very," he stated simply.

"But what all of the spell books stressed was something that I think you would highly agree with." She stopped directly in front of him with her back facing him, her eyes looking at him through slits.

"And what would that be?" Mosquito wasn't getting a good feeling from all this, she was building up to something, and he wasn't too sure what.

"Sacrifice."

She suddenly pounced onto him, holding him down as the snake from her right arm ripped out Mosquito's still beating heart.

She giggled lowly, holding out her hand, as her snake dropped the heart onto it. "Whatever made you think mosquitoes and snakes got along, poor fool?"

"Hey! What the fuck are you doin'!" Giriko yelled.

Medusa smiled brightly, her head tilted to the side. "Why, I'm just getting the ingredients for the spell to work," she said sweetly, her grin twisted.

"You crazy bitch! Arachne would nev-" Giriko stopped himself when he noticed that the identical snake tattoo from her left arm was missing.

"Wh-where the fuck is that other snake?" Giriko questioned, panicky.

Medusa merely giggled, covering her mouth with one hand and pointing behind Giriko with the other, gesturing with the small, red organ still in her fist. He turned, only to see the massive snake looming over him, his last thought being what a piss poor way to die this was.

Medusa's snake slithered around him with lightning speed, biting off his head before he could suffocate from loss of breath.

Medusa gave him a disapproving look. "Don't you think that was a bit much, dear?"

The snake simply slithered over to her and back onto her arm. She smiled softly and patted the raised skin. "You both did wonderfully."

Medusa looked over at her sister's still sleeping body and grimaced slightly; she knew she wouldn't be too happy with how easily they were slain.

She had one of her snakes bring Giriko's headless body over to the bed Arachne rested on and laid out Spirit's clump of hair and Mosquito's heart alongside it.

Medusa sighed, "The things I do for you, dear sister."

She began her incantation, the power of the spell slowly draining her of her energy, her breathing becoming labored.

Oh.

That was just her breath being sucked out of her.

She barely had enough time to realize what was happening and had only enough breath left to finish the chant.

The last of Medusa's breath entered into Arachne through her nose and she awoke instantly with a deep gasping breath. She got up groggily and turned her attention to the choking sound beneath her bed.

"Welcome... back… sister…" Medusa rasped, collapsing onto the blood soaked floor.

Arachne surveyed the room around, full of the stench of death and musk.

And she smiled.

"How delightful."

"You know, of all the rooms in the palace, out here is my favorite place to be."

Soul watched as Maka walked gracefully through the tall grass and blooming flowers of the palace garden. Her eyes were closed, a look of pure contentment on her face.

"I'm really glad that we're having lessons out here today. It's so beautiful," Maka stated as she found a nice patch of grass to rest down on.

Soul laughed.

"What?" she asked, turning to him, her tone mirthful.

Soul shook his head, a small smile on his face. "It's nothing, just... My mother would have liked you," he finished quietly, the smile on his face nostalgic.

Maka smiled sweetly, her eyes glazed over with comfort instead of pity; something that Soul did not expect but greatly appreciated. She beckoned him over and took his large, warm hand into her small, cool ones when he sat next to her.

"I'm sure I would have liked her as well."

Maka learned that there was no use in pushing Soul to tell her about his family. He would tell her at his own time and at his own pace.

That didn't mean she didn't try, though.

"What about your father?" Maka asked inconspicuously.

"Huh? What about my father?" Soul asked defensively.

Maka began to rub his hand with her thumbs to ease his sudden tension.

"What would he think of me?" she asked, looking into his eyes, giving him no room to run away, no room to hide. Soul just stared back at her, his eyebrows drawn down and his mouth set in a thin line. He sighed, turning his head away from her and looking off into the distance. Maka's hand moved from its previous position to rub his arm, attempting to bring his gaze back to her own. She rested her head on his shoulder, whispering "please" into the silk of his robes.

Even after all their time spent together, he was unable to deny her anything. In fact, he may have gotten worse at it.

"He-" Soul began, the sudden onslaught of memories of his father's rumbling voice and kind, droopy eyes halting him in his speech. "...uh...he..."

_"Father?" Soul asked, his young voice piercing the quiet of his father's study._

_"Hm?"_

_"What's love?"_

_"Huh? Why do you ask? Are you in love with someone?"_

Soul could still remember the way his father's large hand placed itself on his head and ruffled through his wispy, platinum locks.

_"NO! It's just...you and mama always seem so...lovey...and...I just don't get it."_

_"Hmmm...well...it's hard to explain. Love is different for everyone depending on who you love, I suppose. Do you love me?"_

_"Of course, father!"_

_"Hmm, and do you love your mama?"_

_"Yes!" The young boy paused before smiling widely. "Mama has the best stories."_

His father's rumbling chuckle still warmed his heart, even as a faint memory.

_"She sure does. Do you love your brother and your grandmother?"_

_"Even if Wes can be a meanie?"_

The faint sounds of his father's full bodied laugh brought a faint smile to his face, his eyes misting over with nostalgia.

_"Even if Wes can be a meanie." The mirth very evident in his poorly concealed chuckles._

_"...yes," young Soul pondered. "Yes. I love all of you."_

_"Then you understand what love is."_

But Soul didn't think he did.

"Soul?" Maka asked, Soul's prolonged silence making her worry that she may have pushed him too far.

But his time with Maka made Soul pretty sure he understood it now. He smiled softly at her, his hand enclosing over hers.

"He would've liked you, too."

Her smile was so bright and warm he couldn't help but replicate it.

"Though he would've mistaken you for the reincarnation of a _harpy_ instead of the Phoenix."

He had thought getting her out of the study would reduce the chances of her whipping out a book and bashing him on the head. He was very wrong.

Arachne looked at the scene set out before her.

Her sister and two of her most loyal followers lie brutally mangled throughout the musty room, the smell of freshly spilled blood still in the air. Arachne took a deep breath, wine colored lips spreading slowly into a slight smirk. Her focus turned to the lifeless body of her sister next to her, Medusa's choppy blond hair lying flatly over her soulless eyes.

"Hm. You always did try to take on things you couldn't handle," Arachne crooned, her hands sweeping through her sister's hair, her smile settling into a thin line.

"And look, now it's killed you." Arachne's hand continued to run through Medusa's hair before sliding her slender fingers down her sister's face, Arachne's manicured fingernails closing Medusa's eyelids.

Arachne closed her own eyes taking a deep breath, a melancholy smile on her face.

"Too bad I couldn't do it myself."

Her wine colored lips spread into a smirk before blackening along with the rest of her body, her form spilling into thousands of spiders quickly crawling in all directions. Arachne's soul grew with each spider that found their way out of the abandoned castle, all setting out towards one destination.

The Phoenix Kingdom.

Arachne's soul pulsed with arrogance.

Madness was alive.

Maka woke drenched with sweat, her breath labored, and the feeling of..._spiders_ crawling all over her skin. As she rubbed her arms to rid herself of the sensation, she turned her attention towards one of the windows of her room.

It was still night.

Maka settled back into bed, or at least tried to. Everytime she felt sleep begin to call her back into blissful abyss, spiders would crawl over eyes and in and out of her slightly opened mouth.

She shot up, vigorously scratching her tongue.

As she noticed her surroundings, she sighed heavily and rested her head on her knees. trying to control her breathing.

"_Maybe Soul could help," _she thought to herself before slowly climbing out of bed, the thought of the King instantly soothing her.

Walking through the palace halls at night was even more confusing and frightening than in the day. At night, there seemed to be even more twist and turns, even more hallways with endless length, even more shadows whispering warnings and threats against the walls.

Maka took a deep breath and thought of only Soul.

Steps later, she found herself in front of the two large mahogany doors of the King's sleeping chambers.

She pulled on the impossibly heavy doors, trying to make as little noise as possible. She blushed at the thought of one of the servants catching her sneaking into Soul's bedroom and all the rumors that would spread, her face brightened even more when she realized she'd much rather be sneaking into his room for… _other_ reasons other than her haunting nightmares.

She softly closed the doors behind her, her arms feeling very much like soggy noodles after opening and closing one of the double doors. Soul was still sleeping peacefully in his large bed and she suddenly felt very silly for wanting to wake him because of some stupid dream.

She turned to leave, trying her best to open the door, but facing difficulty due to her soggy noodle arms. Her arms gave out and the slightly ajar door closed with a considerable amount of noise. Maka winced, turning around to see if Soul was still asleep only to find him directly behind her.

"Oh dear Phoenix, Soul!" Maka squawked. "D-don't do that!"

"Maka?" Soul questioned, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness, there was no moon tonight and the skies were cloudy, he had thought her to be an intruder. He loosened his grip on the dagger he had hidden behind him and let his arm fall to his side (he didn't want to take any chances).

"What are you doing here? Is everything alright? Are _you_ alright?" Soul inquired worriedly, his hands finding his way to her arms.

"Yes, yes I'm fine, I mean- well… I'm okay!" she corrected quickly as she felt Soul's panic begin to rise. "Everything's fine! I just had a nightm- Is that a dagger in your hand?"

"I never take any chances," he stated simply as he dropped his left hand from her arm and grabbed her hand with his free one. He led her to his bed, indicating for her to sit as he placed the aforementioned weapon under his pillow before he sat down beside her. "Now, what happened? You had a nightmare?"

Maka blushed slightly, feeling childish. "Yes." And without further preamble, Maka began to explain what exactly she felt and what she dreamt of.

Soul was silent.

Maka, again, began to feel foolish.

"Maka."

She looked up at his face (or, at least, what she thought was his face), waiting for him to continue.

"We need to go to the study," he stated heavily, grabbing her hand and pulling her to stand up.

"Why?" she asked, confused as he opened the door with ease and they rushed down the halls.

"There's something you must see."


	10. Chapter 10

Soul hauled Maka down the long winding corridor as they made their way to the study.

"There's something you must see."

Maka was a bit perplexed, to say the least. She'd just had a horrible nightmare, she didn't understand why exactly they had to rush to the study - especially at this time of night… or was it closer to morning?

Soul burst into the study, rushed to the closest shelf after dropping Maka's hand, and frantically began to search and randomly pull out books.

"What are you doing?" Maka asked with a yawn, her eyebrow cocked.

"What did you say before? Something about spiders crawling onto your skin- unable to go back to sleep, right?" Soul muttered, flickering through the pages of one book only to toss it away and do the same to another.

Maka had never seen him so frantic before, she was beginning to worry.

"Yes, I did. But, Soul," she said as she reached out to rub his arm, stopping him from tossing another book. "It was just a dream, there's nothing to be worried about."

He rested his hand atop of hers, his eyes awash with fear, only making Maka that much more concerned for him.

"You're wrong."

Maka was taken aback by the assuredness in his voice, Soul led her over to the sitting area and set down a book in front of her.

"I don't know if you are aware of this, but Phoenix Born's harbor special powers when they are reborn," Soul stated calmly

Maka blinked slowly at him. "What."

She was obviously too tired for all of this.

Soul snickered at her tired expression. "Yeah. And I believe," he began as he brought his attention to the book in front of her (which was good, considering the fact that she was getting decidedly distracted by his naked torso), flipping the tome open to a particular page and pointing to a picture at the top of the page.

A small, glowing orb.

"According to this, it seems that you might be able to sense, if not read, souls," Soul finished, snapping Maka out of her daze, her focus directly on the orb.

"...able to sense souls?" she repeated silently.

Soul nodded.

"So, that's how I was able to find you… I sensed your soul?" Maka questioned to herself, her hands grabbing for the book, her eyes greedy for a closer look at the words spread out in front of her.

Now it was Soul's turn to be confused. He had always thought she had a servant bring her to his room whenever she came busting in without any warning.

"_She… She read my soul?" _he thought to himself, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. Hopefully, reading souls didn't mean she could read thoughts.

Meanwhile, Maka was taking in the information of the text in front of her greedily

"_Sound soul...sound mind… sound body… the ability to read souls… some Phoenix Borns use this to receive the truth out of criminals… if trained, the power can be used to find madness… squash the madness…"_

It all began to click.

Maka suddenly sat up straight, her back stiff as a board, the feeling of spiders crawling over her body returned.

"It wasn't just a dream…" she stated huskily, her breath beginning to quicken as the sensation of thousands of small, hairy legs slowly crawled over her got stronger. Soul noticed her panicked state and began to rub her arm in hopes to calm her down, or at least regulate her breathing. She turned to him suddenly, her bright green eyes large and her pupils dilated.

"So, who's soul am I sensing then?" Maka began, desperately searching Soul's eyes for an answer she hoped he could provide. "And why does it feel so… so_terrible_?"

He gave her arm one final rub before he stood up to grab a small book from the shelf directly across from them. He set the book out in front of her and Maka caught a glimpse at the title before he began to flip the pages.

_Enemies of the Phoenix._

The sound of flipping pages suddenly stopped and Maka felt Soul's hand on her shoulder, once again bringing her out of her daze and ridding her of the crawling sensation on her skin.

That is, until she read the page that Soul had stopped on and took a good look at the picture of the woman at the top of said page.

_Arachne: __The Spider Queen._

Maka gasped. "That's it, It's her. It's her soul."

Soul sighed.

"Then we're in for a load of shit."

* * *

The air was smoky, dank with the smell of alcohol, and the tavern was filled with the sounds of slurred words and drunk laughter.

Spirit's was the loudest laugh of them all.

His daughter would be so disappointed.

But, really when wasn't she?

That is the exact reason that he came to the tavern, his empty house only full of the memories of the women he loved the most and hurt the most.

He didn't want to think of that.

He didn't want to think of his daughter's sweet smile and how rarely he got to see it.

He didn't want to think about his wife's warm eyes and they way her laugh seemed to resonate not only in the room, but within his heart.

Because when he thought of that, all he could think about was Karen's cold stare, the same one Maka inherited and the tears Karen shed when they argued and Maka's small body trembling in the shadows.

When he was alone in that too large house, all he could think of was his wife's dead body lying in a river and the burnt down stable where Maka lost her previous life.

All he could think about was how he failed the two most important people and how he continued to do so, even now.

"NEXT ROUND'S ON ME LADS!" Spirit shouted out into the crowd, his stance as wobbly as the world and his grin too wide.

In the shadows, deep, dark, red lips spread into a grin.

* * *

Maka woke up with a sharp pain in her neck, a feeling of wetness on her cheek, and something that had to weigh about 200 pounds on her back. She groaned and stretched, turning her head to the left to relieve herself of the pain only to come nose to nose with the king.

His eyes were open.

Maka released a high pitched wail, shrugging Soul off of her back and falling off of the chair trying to scramble herself away from him. Soul, who had ended up on the floor from the combined force of her pushing and her kicking, was laughing loudly at Maka's red face and her puffed out cheeks.

"Oh, dear Phoenix! That was hilarious!" he let out between breaths, as he, too, began to turn red from laughing so hard.

Maka threw one of the books sprawled out across the study's floor, but missed. Embarrassment made her a bit unable to aim.

"Be quiet!" she yelled, her lip set in a pout Soul couldn't help but to find adorable.

The two had been up all night and most of the morning trying to get Maka to refine her skill. Like most things, Maka was a natural at it. The ability to learn at a high speed must have been another power the Phoenix granted her - that or she was just that talented.

Soul sighed.

Yes, Maka was quite talented in that regard. She had learned everything she could about the kingdom and its laws at an alarming rate.

Quite frankly, she'd been ready to take her rightful place as ruler months ago.

Soul's smile began to wane, the thought of having to leave Maka soon instantly squashing his mirthful mood. Maka noticed the decline in her friend's joy, through both her power and the sheer look of misery that was spread across his face.

She crawled over to him and rested a hand on his knee, "What's wrong?" she asked soothingly as she rubbed his leg, making slow, lazy circles in an effort to ease his tension. Soul merely stared down in silence, contemplating his next words.

"_What if I never see her again?" _Soul thought worriedly to himself, his ruby eyes snapping to meet hers when she placed her other hand on his face.

She asked again, "What's wrong?" Her eyes were pleading and comforting all at once, taking and giving, pushing and pulling. She was captivating.

He didn't want to let her go.

"I'm going to miss you," he stated honestly, his tone yearning as he grabbed the hand resting on his face and clutching it with it's own.

Maka was taken aback, both by his melancholy tone and the words that came with it.

"M-miss me?" Her face brightened as she so desperately tried to keep her composure. "What are you talking about? I-I'm not going anywhere." She let out the last part of her sentence quietly, hoping that it relayed how she wasn't going anywhere because of _him_.

Soul sighed heavily and removed her hand from his face, setting it down on her own lap. "I, King Soul," Soul stood, as he began with a sorrowful tone, "do note that you, Maka Albarn, are rightful ruler to this kingdom. I, with greatest honor and respect do name you Queen Maka of the Phoenix Kingdom." He finished solemnly, bowing deeply to Maka's astonishment.

"I-I...what?!" Maka shrieked in confusion.

Soul, once again, let out a deep breath. "You are more than ready to take your place as ruler. Have been quite awhile now." He held his hand out for her to take before he raised her into a standing position, with only about a foot of space between them.

"Wh- I- Did you just coronate me?" Maka sputtered, still not understanding Soul's previous sadness, this sudden talk of her title, and this even more sudden coronation.

Soul chuckled slightly. "Heh. I guess you could say that." He bowed once again, kissed her hand, then stood upright. He looked her over, her small frame and her wide eyes and her powerful disposition.

He was never going to find anyone like her again. He was sure of it.

With a quick thought, Soul gathered her up in his arms and kissed her forehead briefly, taking a moment to smell the vanilla in her hair. Maka buried herself deeper into his embrace, if not only to hide the deep, scarlet red that had spread across her face. However, she couldn't help but feel like he was saying goodbye and she just wanted him to stay, to stay and hold her like this for as long as possible.

Soul released his hold on her and held Maka at arm's length, giving her arms one final rub before letting go and bowing to her one final time.

"And with that, I must bid you farewell."

* * *

Maka stood in the study alone, Soul's final words ringing in her head as she stared blankly out into space. She still could feel the softness of his robes and the rumbling of his deep voice as he held her not all too long ago. Each echoing clack she heard of his retreating footsteps pounded into her head.

What was she doing?

She ran out out of the room, throwing the doors wide open, surprising both nearby servants and Soul, who had just reached the end of the corridor.

He turned towards her, his droopy eyes blown wide at her sudden outburst. Maka simply stared at him, her breathing heavy and almost panicked, before she picked up the skirt of her gown and ran towards him.

"What do you mean, you must _bid me farewell_?" Maka shouted accusingly, her previous daze of confusion now transformed into boiling anger. She stopped right in front of him a few mere inches separating them.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her tone desperate and her eyes fiery.

Soul looked down at her, blinking slowly as he raised one thin, white eyebrow, not entirely sure why he was so surprised at how Maka was handling this.

He sighed.

"Maka…" he began softly, reaching out to rub her arm, which she snatched away from his reach. He gave her sad look. "You had to have known this would happen sooner or later. I can't stay here."

"Well, why not?" Maka stated hotly. "I'm ruler, right? Queen, _hmm_? Fine, then. Your Queen is ordering you to stay," she demanded.

Soul sighed heavily (he was starting to get sick of doing that), "You know that's not how it works."

"Bu-"

"My job was to rule the kingdom until the Phoenix Born came. And then, to train them," Soul stated with finality, cutting Maka off. "I've done just that."

A thick silence settled between them.

"...Was this all just a "job" to you?" Maka whispered accusingly, her down turned eyes swimming in hurt.

"Maka-!" he started loudly, before cutting himself off in order to gather his thoughts. "Maka, I have no use here anymore. Don't you get it?"

"That's not-"

"Do you think I want to leave?" he asked desperately. "Maka… this is my_home_, and… leaving here means leaving _you_ and I care about you so much."

"Soul…" Maka stated breathlessly.

"Please, don't go."

"I have to."

"No! You _don't_!"

"Yes. I do."

"_Soul,_ _please_!"

"Maka!" Soul grabbed her by both shoulders, staring deeply into her eyes, trying to get her to understand that he didn't want to leave but_he had to._

He wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

"You have to understand, Maka, I know you do, we've been over this. Unless, someone is a servant to the Phoenix Born, married to them, or a child of the current Phoenix Born, they cannot live here. _I_ cannot live here."

Maka stayed silent, her jade eyes flickering in between Soul's ruby ones, before her blonde eyebrows drew down in deep thought and determination.

Soul knew that look.

It was the same look she had when she convinced him to go riding on horseback through town square, abandoning lessons for a day of rowdy, unadulterated fun.

It was the look she had whenever she suggested something impulsive and crazy.

"Marry me, then," she stated quietly, her fists clenching at the front of his robes.

See?

Impulsive and crazy.


	11. Chapter 11

"_Marry me, then."_

Soul had no awareness of what was happening around him. He paid no mind to the sudden quietness that settled in the halls. He didn't notice how the fingers he wrapped around Maka's arms clenched tightly or how his breath caught with each shallow intake of air.

No.

He was all too focused on those three words she had uttered to him. Those words that she'd mulled over for all of two seconds before speaking them in that bell like tone of hers, the look on her face serious, determined and desperate for him to just _stay_.

He had so many questions he wanted to ask her.

_"Why does she want to marry __**me**__?"_

_"Is she in love with me? Phoenix, I hope so."_

_"Does she really want to marry __**me**__?"_

But all he could manage to let out was a small, "M-marry you?"

Maka gently grabbed his face, her fingers slightly caressing his warm cheeks as she stared into his eyes. Her own green ones flickered down to his lips for the briefest of seconds before she boldly set her own on them. Soul's eyes widened before closing slowly as she moved her lips over his. The two moved in sync as Maka's arms wrapped around Soul's neck, pulling him down to her level, while causing Soul to grab onto her strong, rounded hips. Soul sighed into her mouth, relishing the sound of her gasp as he used the tip of his tongue to open up her mouth. Maka separated from him with a loud, smacking sound.

"Yes." Her smile wide and glowing as the fire she came from. "Marry me," she finished brightly, her face tinted a soft pink.

He smiled down at her. This wonderful, powerful, joyful woman who just somehow made his life better simply by being in it. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, wanted to articulate how wonderful she was. Because he knew, from the way they held each other and the way their lips touched, that this was real.

Soul smiled widely, his serrated teeth glinting with mirth.

"Okay."

* * *

"THEY'RE GETTING _MARRIED_?"

Spirit's screech rang throughout the whole tavern, causing fellow patrons to turn and glare at him for disturbing their conversations. Spirit, however, could not care less, as he stared at the offending piece of paper in front of him.

_Dear citizens,_

_You are all welcome to the official coronation of the Phoenix Born,_

_Wherefore, shortly thereafter, the Phoenix Born shall wed King Soul._

_With warmest regards, your current ruler_

_King Soul_

"WED? WED?! THEY HAVEN'T EVEN KNOWN EACH OTHER A YEAR AND THEY'RE GETTING _MARRIED_?!" Spirit yelled, coming slightly unhinged each time he read the succinct letter over and over again, his hand clutching at the fragile parchment, straining under his grip.

"Ah, I see you have received an invite to the wedding?"

"GAHAHUGH." Spirit let out a scream, turning to meet the dark, droopy eyes of a sweet looking girl. His anger immediately dissipated being in the presence of a beautiful young woman.

She covered her mouth in an effort to hide her giggles. "Does it upset you?" she asked, taking a moment to take the man she was talking to in, before realizing who he was. "Oh. My apologies for, bothering you my lord."

"Oh please, please. You are no bother," he said, his voice smooth and low. He gave the young woman a warm smile, which she returned, as he gestured her to the seat next to him.

"I apologize for my eruption earlier," Spirit stated, genuinely apologetic as he raised his large hand to his chest.

The maiden's wine colored lips raised slightly in a smirk before she turned towards him. Her droopy eyes were somehow wide with innocence and sympathy.

"Well, it's perfectly understandable, my lord." She paused. "It's your daughter who's marrying the King, am I correct?"

Spirit's face twitched and his warm smile faltered at the young woman's words. The mentioning of his daughter marrying that brat hammering away at his light hearted demeanor.

"Yes," Spirit let out, hoarsely.

The young woman caught the attention of the barkeep, ordering drinks for both her and her newly acquired companion. Once she received her beverage, a wine as red as her lips, she swirled the contents of the glass around and hummed to herself. The sudden silence between Spirit and the maiden was thick and almost hypnotic.

"I would love to attend," she stated absentmindedly, snapping Spirit out of his daze.

"Well, why don't you?" he asked innocently, before sulking into his amber colored drink. "It's only open to all of the godsdamned kingdom," he muttered, before taking a swig. The warm, spreading heat of the amber liquid barely distracting him from the dullness in his chest.

_"They didn't even send me my own invitation," _Spirit thought miserably, before his eyes narrowed, the liquid of his drinking glass starting to resemble a certain bratty, snot nosed king.

_"The bastard."_

The cream skinned beauty sitting next to him coughed politely into her hand, once again snatching Spirit out of his thoughts.

"Oh. I am terribly sorry. Did you say something, love?" he asked sweetly, that same bright, close lipped smile plastered onto his face.

The maiden giggled, whether at his spacing out or his on the spot nickname for her he wasn't sure, but her laugh was low and haunting, almost like a dark lullaby.

"I said that I was raised very traditionally. I'll go to no wedding or ball or party unless I have a strong, handsome young man on my arm," she remarked. Her eyes roving over Spirit's body, making other things other than his ego swell.

"Well~" he began, "I may happen to know such a man who would be willing to take you."

The two smiled lecherously at each other.

"Oh. I never received the honor of knowing your name, beautiful," Spirit stated, his eyes roving over the maiden's curvaceous body. "Or shall I just call you beautiful?" he flirted, his eyebrows waggling at her.

She laughed heartily, the sound smoky and hypnotic.

She hummed as she moved closer to Spirit, her pouty lips brushing his ear.

"You can call me… Arachne."

Spirit's eyes widened, the last thing he saw was the inside of Arachne's iris lightening in color and her pupil spreading out in the form of a cobweb before his vision became overrun with the bodies of tiny, black spiders.


	12. Chapter 12

He couldn't believe it.

Soul could see himself, his own eyes staring back at him, standing in front of the mirror draped in his father's robes and pinned with his mother's family crest, but he still couldn't believe it.

He was getting married today.

He was getting _married_.

Soul slowly ran his finger down the white silk of his father's cape, his woody, smoky scent somehow still lingering in the fabric after all these years. He lifted his gaze, only to stare at his reflection, his heart thumping to the beat of Wes's first composition, the slightly frayed paper folded neatly underneath his shirt.

Should they really go through with this?

Soul's panicked face reflected in the mirror, his wide eyes staring heavily at the reflection of his heaving chest. He felt like he was looking at someone entirely different. That wasn't him he was staring back at, breathing as if there was something stuck in his throat. It wasn't him feeling this extreme terror. Was this really happening to him? Was any of it real? Or was it all just a cruel, cruel dream that was making fun of his heart's wishes?

He took a deep, stabilizing breath.

"You look nervous."

His eyes snapped open, the voice startling him and causing him to squeak in surprise. He heard the tinkling of bells as the laugh of said voice bounced off the walls of his expansive room.

It took all of his willpower not to turn around and take the owner of that beautiful laugh in his arms.

"Aren't we not supposed to see each other before the wedding? Bad luck, and all that."

This time when they laughed, the air was filled with summer and crackling fire, their laugh just as nervous and warm as they felt.

"I thought that if I saw you…" Soul could picture her chewing her lower lip, the light pink slowly fading into a muted red. "I wouldn't feel like the world was going so fast." Maka finished quietly. Her eyes focused intently on the marble floor.

Soul let out a short laugh. "And you say that I'm nervous."

Soul suddenly felt Maka's small, warm hands wrap around his torso and her nose nuzzling into his back. Her light laugh resonated through him.

"At least, we're nervous together," she stated warmly, her lithe arms tightening around him, his hand reaching up to connect with her smaller one.

He let out a breath through his nose, his soul stabilizing and the panicked feeling ebbing as he looked up to the high, high ceiling with the barest of smiles on his face.

"Heh. Yeah."

The sweet moment between soon-to-be husband and wife did not last long.

"UWAAAAA! WHERE'S MY DARLING DAUGHTER?! GAHHHHH!"

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," Maka murmured into Soul's back, her form burrowing further into his, as if she could make herself invisible by doing so.

"_MAAAAAKKKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"_

"Who invited him?!" Maka growled angrily, ripping herself away from Soul in order to shut the doors.

"I JUST WANT TO SEE MY MAKAAAAAA!"

"I believe you did, _dearest._" Soul retorted, reveling in this sort of normalcy. He was glad the old man was back.

Soul never saw that kick coming, though.

* * *

Arachne felt absolutely uncomfortable.

She wasn't used to being around so many people, so many _commoners_.

It was disgusting.

She stood in the midst of the mingling guests, throwing a false smile at anyone who looked her way.

She was really starting to get sick of this form. It gained far too many wandering eyes, which she found odd because she formed herself to look younger, making her curves a bit more subtle than usual.

Ah, well.

All that mattered was that she was here.

She had successfully infiltrated the palace with no one the wiser and she was finally going to finish what her _dear_ sister started.

Arachne smirked, her eyes taking on a darker tone.

Not only was she going to destroy the phoenix's beloved kingdom, oh no. Arachne was going to make the Phoenix _suffer_. And it all started with the Phoenix Born.

She could taste her next meal now.

"There you are!"

Arachne turned her attention to the fiery haired man, trying to hide her disgust behind a polite smile as Spirit swooped down to kiss her cheek and grab her hand.

And then there was this dolt to deal with. She was just itching to let her spiders do their will in his body, but Spirit was not only a vital piece to her plan but the Phoenix Born's father. His death would completely ruin everything.

Unfortunately.

"Come. The ceremony's about to begin!" he stated excitedly.

She patted his hand before removing it from her own. The madness in her going haywire from being in the palace for so long with her soul spread so far out.

"I'll be right with you!" she began. "You go on ahead before me."

Spirit kissed her cheek once more, skipping off merrily to find their seats. Arachne waved behind him slowly, her smile slowly melting into a grimace.

That man was an idiot.

Her gaze roved around the foyer, the sounds of vibrant conversation matching the vibrant, glistening orange and gold drapery. Although, the way the light kept catching the embedded jewels that seemed to be scattered _everywhere_ was quite annoying; there was something else much more important that caught the spider queen's eye.

A painting.

Oh, she really did miss that form of hers. She was at her prime, her soul more powerful than ever, her web covering the expanse of the world in her madness. Oh, yes, that form had always been her favorite…

She'd really have to give the artist some credit, whoever the painter was, they were a genius.

She made her way to the large painting portraying one of the greatest battles between deities in history.

The battle where that cursed Phoenix placed a never ending sleep spell on her.

Arachne smiled mysteriously down at the glittering marble floor.

"That Phoenix never could commit to taking someone's life." she murmured, the words tumbling out of her dark lips. The same lips pulled back into a wide smile, the madness in a Arachne's veins evident in her grin.

"It'll be so nice to see you again~"

* * *

Three loud tongs from the church bells rang.

It was time.

Soul stood before the large wooden doors leading to the outdoor garden, impatiently waiting for the ushers to open them.

He had to chuckle to himself, though.

He never really pictured himself getting married in the first place, but getting married in the palace's garden was so unheard of, so nontraditional, so… _Maka._

He chuckled out loud this time. He truly was willing to do anything for her.

Ah, well. Happy wife, happy life right?

Dear Phoenix did he know that to be true. They weren't even married yet and his life was already so much better.

He was no longer alone.

The warmth of the sun beaming down on his face as the doors finally opened was no match for the feelings he felt as he took the first step down the aisle.

He had never felt so warm.

* * *

The sky was black. Large, angry clouds held the cries of thunder, the ominous smog threatening to burst with darkness and madness. The nature of the skies matched that of the land. All around there was grief and devastation, and in the middle of it all, was Arachne. The Spider Queen and madness's mistress, as she was called by the people, walked amongst their remains, her feet crushing the skulls of still breathing victims of her chaos. Her wine colored lips were pulled up into a dark smirk, her eyes glinting with insanity as she sauntered towards the only kingdom standing.

The Phoenix Kingdom.

Upon reaching the golden gates of the Phoenix's home, Arachne immediately took out the guards with a wave of her hand, her spiders engulfing them in eternal blackness, their small forms not leaving the bodies until they stopped moving. Their horror stricken faces and peeled off skin only further fueled Arachne's desire for destruction. She walked through the gates with incredible ease, the glittering gold dimming into a horrific brown as she passed through them. She continued on to the palace, anyone with enough courage and stupidity to try and defeat her met the same fate as the guards at the gate.

"Arachne."

The Spider Queen's attention darted above her, the expression of surprise on her face settled once again into her dark, melancholy smirk.

"Hello. Phoenix."

The Phoenix's human form was breathtaking. Arachne had always been jealous of her beauty. The Phoenix was fire, always burning and glowing bright, her bright red hair trailed down her back and her gold eyes were filled with righteous fury as she settled on the ground in front of the entity of darkness itself.

There was no need for an exchange of words.

The two clashed together, sparks and spiders sprinkling all over as the two changed into their true forms. The Phoenix flew away and above Arachne, a trail of blazing fire marking her path.

"Get back down here and meet your fate, Phoenix~" Arachne cooed. Her form was now that of half spider/half woman, the pupils of her eyes now white and spread out into silk webs. Her own thin, invisible web beginning to form as she waited impatiently for the Phoenix to fall into her trap. The fire bird nose-dived towards Arachne, her wings tucked in. She expertly avoided the barely there lines of spider silk, heading straight for Arachne. The Phoenix crashed into her in an explosion of sparks and light, her sheer force making Arachne submit to her. The fire bird had the spider woman's neck caught in between her talons, her claws tightening with each passing second the two queens glared at each other.

Arachne sucked her teeth, the smile on her face demeaning and challenging.

"Do it."

The Phoenix's grip tightened to the point where Arachne began to claw at the bird's talons. Her golden eyes glittered calculatingly, mercy nowhere to be found in her eyes.

"I am not you."

The Phoenix opened her wings, her marvelous feathers spreading and filtering light amongst the rubble and madness.

"_While death has you in it's clutches, sleep shall be your mercy. Sleep, my old friend. And torture me no more."_

The Phoenix's booming yet gentle spell lulled the spider queen into an eternal slumber, with only an act of love and sacrifice as the key to breaking the curse. The Phoenix returned to human form as did Arachne due to an effect from the spell. Arachne tried her best to fight against the lulling words of the Phoenix but was failing desperately, her body becoming tired and her eyes drowsy. Arachne's last vision was of the Phoenix's disappointed face, her eyes looking down on Arachne's struggling form pitifully.

"We were friends once, Arachne," the Phoenix stated as she reached down to pat the other woman's face before waving her hand over Arachne's eyes and shutting them.

"I hope we can become friends, again."

Arachne smirked, before her body finally settled and fell still.

"_Never."_

* * *

She was radiant.

Soul's breath left his body at the sight of her and her completely untraditional dress.

He'd laugh if he weren't on the verge of tears.

Her dress was a deep red, much like the color of his own eyes, the etchings of fire stitched carefully into the gown, flames licked at her bustline and at the beginning of her train before turning into the blackest ash.

She was a goddess.

Wisps of her hair intentionally left out of the braided bun brushed her bare shoulders, her skin supple and probably smelling of his mother's perfume. In her hands, she carried a small bouquet of golden flowers, their beauty seeming to wilt in the presence of their carrier.

She was a goddess.

And he was marrying her.

* * *

The ceremony was short.

Maka was officially coronated right before the nuptials and the kiss that sealed their marriage might've been the longest part of the wedding.

It took several of the townspeople's strongest men to hold Spirit down at that point.

Maka was extremely happy. Slightly annoyed by her father's antics, but extremely happy to be with the man whom she loved and to have him ruling by her side. She and Soul sat at the head of the large, expansive dining room table in the even larger dining hall that was once again made open to the room was full of loud laughter, quick chatter, clinking forks and spoons and the swishing of wine.

It was the music of celebration.

Maka was carrying light conversation with a young girl from a town a few miles away from the palace when she suddenly got that sensation again.

Spiders.

The spiders were everywhere.

In her hair, in their food, in her skin.

Maka's hand frantically reached out for Soul, his hand, his arm, anything, anything to get rid of this feeling.

Soul turned to her, worry etched in his face. "What's wrong, Maka?"

"She's here," Maka quipped back at him, panicked. "She's _here._ How did she even get in here? Soul-"

"Hey," Soul stated, calmly. He rubbed her arms soothingly trying to get her to calm down and to not cause any of their guest worry.

"Slow down." Soul looked Maka directly in her eyes, breathing slowly, trying to get her to do the same. "Who's here?" he asked.

Maka took in a deep calming breath, the feeling of spiders crawling under her skin intensifying.

"Arachne."

Soul's eyes widened, his body paralyzed with fear.

"Maka! I would like to introduce you to someone!"

The newlyweds turned around quickly, startled by Spirit's intrusion.

They were even more startled to see the woman on his arm.

Arachne smiled widely.

"It's so nice to meet you two~"

* * *

Maka was stuck.

There were spiders everywhere.

And their queen was smiling brightly at her.

Maka felt like she wanted to throw up.

"E-excuse me." Maka stumbled out of her chair, all but running out of the dining hall.

As soon as she entered the entrance to the hallways, Maka gathered up the heavy material of her dress, kicked off her heels and _ran_.

She had never felt this way before, she had never felt so _afraid _for her life. Everything and everyone was coming after her, the paintings and curtains all held tiny, black spots within them. There were spiders everywhere.

"Are you alright, your Majesty?" a concerned voice asked the newly appointed queen. Maka screamed in terror when she saw the young maid's face covered in crawling black spots and her blood stained cheeks.

"Your Majesty!" the young girl called after her. Maka just kept running, making a sharp turn and almost dry heaving at what she saw.

A young boy.

Dead.

An arrow lodged in his throat.

He looked just like Soul.

This time when Maka screamed, the whole kingdom heard it.

* * *

Soul was worried.

More than worried, actually.

He was down right scared shitless.

What the _hell_ was Arachne doing here? And what was her soul's presence doing to Maka?

He had never seen her like that before.

"I need to tend to my wife," Soul stated, before rising out of his seat

"Oh please, you've been _married_ all of two seconds and you already wanna throw that you two are _married_ in people's faces," Spirit mocked, standing in Soul's way.

"Well, we did _just_ get married," Soul snapped. "Excuse me." He shoved past Spirit, before the older man grabbed his elbow.

"If anything, I'll go see to her." Spirit glared into Soul's eyes, the tension between them thick and heavy. The silence stretching between them uneased Spirit, the mirth in the atmosphere dissipating very quickly

"You've done enough." Soul growled, snatching his arm from Spirit's grasp.

"What does that mean?!" Spirit squawked.

Soul moved around Spirit leaving the man to sputter behind him, Spirit's shrieks falling on deaf ears. Soul could feel Arachne's gaze on his back as he walked towards the dining room exit, letting out a shudder as soon as he got into the corridor.

Soul began his journey, his heartbeat getting more and more frantic with every step he took and no sign of Maka.

"Maka!" He called out.

He began to run between the halls, making sharp turns and wishing that he had her ability to seek her soul.

"Your majesty, are you all right?"

The timid voice stopped Soul in his tracks, the young maid's bright eyes full of concern and worry caused him to take a breath.

"Yes, I'm fine," he stated calculatingly, hiding his erratic feelings behind a second built mask. "Have you seen the Phoenix Born? Did she come down this way?"

The maid's eyes widened as if she were surprised that he was still standing there. She then began to shake her head feverishly, rushed words tumbling out of her lips.

"Yes! I did!" The young girl began to pace in front of the King. "I-I don't know what happened! I just asked her what was the matter and she began_screaming_-"

A high-pitched, terror filled screamed cut the maid off, the sound causing both the young girl and Soul to wince.

"J-just like that…" the maid finished, her hands beginning to tremble with extreme worry. Soul's eyes flickered from the young girl's terror-stricken face to her wringing hands and he could tell it wasn't just Maka's behavior that was stressing her out.

It was Arachne.

Soul rested his heavy hand on her shoulder, bringing her attention to him. He stared directly into her eyes, trying to convey his gratitude and trying to calm her down.

"Thank you." He gave the young maid a final pat on her shoulder and then ran off in search of his newly wedded wife.

* * *

They knew.

Arachne wasn't too surprised. She just wished she could've had a bit more fun with them.

Oh well.

"Excuse me, Spirit, but I must use the washroom," Arachne said politely, her smile still plastered on her face as she disentangled herself from her escorter.

"Do you want me to help you find it?" he asked.

Arachne tilted her head to the side, her river long black hair cascading down her shoulders and splaying across her breasts. The very motion strengthening the effects of her spell on him, amongst other things.

"No. I should be able to find it myself."

Spirit roved his eyes over her figure once more, drinking in her curves as the spiders at the nape of his neck burrowed themselves further into his skin.

"Don't take too long." Spirit whispered in her ear.

Arachne's manicured fingers wrapped around his hand, clutching it almost painfully as she looked into his web-covered green eyes.

"I won't." she cooed.

She left the man in a state of unadulterated want, his eyes glued to her swaying hips and Arachne's wide smile replaced by her usual smirk as she exited the room filled with unsuspecting wedding guests.

It seems it was time to remind the Phoenix Kingdom why she is such a threat.

The screams of fright and horror coming from the dining room was the melody of Arachne's own twisted symphony.

* * *

"Maka! Maka, where are you!" Soul shouted down the hallways, making various turns and taking shortcuts that only he knew of, yet she was nowhere to be seen.

He heard another scream coming from his wife and his heart dropped out of his stomach. He just began to run faster.

"...Soul… please..."

The pleading sob rang through the corridors, the pain and absolute fright evident in the cry.

A cry that sounded all too close.

"Maka?" Soul asked hopefully.

The sound of a body thumping against a wall caused Soul to turn to his left and to approach the painting of his brother.

"...Soul?" Maka's panicked voice came through the lips of his brother.

"Maka!" He sighed in relief. "Don't worry, I'm here." He rested his head on the cool surface of the painting. "I'm here." His hand found a loose brick within the wall and he pushed it, causing the wall to open.

"Soul…" Maka exhaled as she crashed into his arms.

"I'm here. I'm here." Soul whispered into her hair, his hands rubbing the expanse of her back , her heartbeat against his relieving him of his previous terror.

"Oh. How sweet."

Soul glared at the figure standing in the middle of the hallway, her person surrounded by her spiders.

"You are not welcome here, Arachne," he growled at her.

The spider queen clutched her chest in mock regret. "Well, it seems I've interrupted something. I deeply apologize."

"Get. Out." Soul grated through his sharp teeth.

"Is your wife doing okay?" Arachne's eyes turned to slits, her tone much too sweet. She knew exactly what she was doing at it sickened him. "She looks_very_ sick."

Soul was not going to fall into her web, he was _not_. He was not going to let her provoke him, she was waiting for something and they needed to see what.

"Phoenix Born?" Arachne asked innocently. "Or would you rather I call you Maka? You don't want to lose yourself now, do you?" Arachne's spiders dug themselves into her skin, their small tiny legs scratching along the surface of her skin. Maka stood slowly, Soul reached out for her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. She merely gave him a look before he released his grip, letting Maka continue with her plan.

Whatever it was.

Maka walked straight towards Arachne, the spiders crawling over her body multiplying the closer she got.

She refused to let them stop her.

She refused to let Arachne demolish her kingdom, refused to let her demolish Soul's home.

"Queen."

Arachne was taken aback, this influx of courage rolling off of the Phoenix Born slightly worrying her.

"What?" she asked innocently, trying to maintain her facade, the feeling of the bride reading her soul unnerving.

Maka sauntered even closer to one of the Phoenix's greatest enemies. "I am Queen Maka. I am the Phoenix Born." Maka stopped right in front of her, their noses almost touching and her eyes burning an emerald fire.

"And I am going to _destroy_ you."

Arachne looked down at her, the reincarnate of her greatest friend and worst enemy.

Her lips pulled back into a toothy smile.

This was going to be fun.


	13. Chapter 13

There were spiders everywhere.

In the food. In the guests' hair. In their mouths.

Spirit watched the chaos unfold around him.

He wanted to _die_.

This was all his fault.

He reached to graze the nape of his neck with his fingertips. He felt the small arachnids compiled there and embedded into his skin, beginning to loosen and crawl down his hand. He shook them off in disgust, before running out of the dining room along with the other guests shoving their way out of the palace.

Why did he _always_ screw something up?

* * *

"_I am going to __**destroy**_ _you."_

Arachne's grin grew wider as she began giggle quietly. The snickers rapidly growing more and more boisterous until she was laughing hysterically.

"Oh really, now~" the spider queen cooed. The slight fear she had of possibly being defeated by the Phoenix Born dissipating as she threw a well placed punch to the gut, making the ash-blonde girl fall to the ground wheezing.

"Maka!" Soul shouted, rising to his feet quickly, running towards the dark-haired woman. Soul's punch to her face caused Arachne to fall down, cradling her chin with her face away from the heaving king.

"You know…" Arachne began, her form changing into a more adult version than the one she took to fool Spirit. "I normally don't fight my own fights, I find it useless to waste my power on such petty things."

She turned her face back to Soul, and he immediately took a step back.

She was terrifying.

Her soft yet angled chin had sharpened even more, her eyes now bulbous and the iris surrounded by cobwebs and her bottom half had gained six extra legs, all of them long, black and hairy. She settled herself on her newly formed legs, reacquainting herself with a form she hadn't used in centuries.

Soul helped Maka, who was stunned by what was happening in front of her, up from the floor. He held her tightly, the huge load of shit they were in becoming more and more evident.

Those same wine colored lips twitched slightly before rising slightly.

"But because it's you two..." She bent her head down, her bangs shadowing her eyes, leaving only that ever present smirk visible.

"I'll have to make an exception."

* * *

It was complete madness.

The palace was in a complete disarray and people were losing their minds.

Spirit even felt himself slipping.

_Oh~ Like you're so strong-willed~ Weren't you the one who helped Arachne infiltrate the palace?. Of course, you were only focused on that curvaceous body of hers, so who could blame you~_

"SHUT. UP." Spirit yelled, grabbing his hair and desperately trying to keep ahold of his sanity, at least long enough to help Maka and Soul.

He couldn't stand that voice.

Especially, since it sounded so much like his daughter.

_You mean the one who absolutely loathes you?_

Spirit gritted his teeth, shoving the voice deep, deep down in his conscious. He was not going to screw up. He was _not_ going to screw up.

He refused to.

He ran around the halls, frantically trying to catch the attention of the screaming servants who were also slowly losing their grip on reality. Many of them were swatting away at spiders that weren't there, other swatting at spiders that _were_ there and others slumped on the floor in defeat.

"Have you seen the King and Queen?" Spirit ran into a young boy, his face full of terror.

"Behind you!"

"Behind me?" Spirit looked behind him. He didn't see Soul and Maka there…

"T-They're everywhere! Run! RUN!" The young boy briefly shook the older man by the forearms before running off, his screams combining with the groans of desperation.

_It's useless._

Spirit turned away from the boy's retreating figure, stomping his way towards the other direction.

_And what are you going to do if you do find them?_

Spirit's feet gained speed, his footfalls echoing throughout the halls as entered the closed off area of the palace.

_You'd probably just screw it up. Liiiiiiiiike everything else~_

The voice was getting stronger.

Good. Maybe… If he followed the madness, it would lead him to it's source… and he could actually be useful.

For once, he was going to get something right.

* * *

"...Shit." Soul cursed. Arachne's spider legs were quick, blocking all of his advances and thwacking him to the ground at every opportunity.

"Where's your scythe, little Soul Eater? Don't you want to eat my soul, too~?" Arachne taunted as she crawled onto the wall, a thin line of spider silk trailing her path.

Soul sucked his teeth.

Just his fucking luck. Something like this _would _happen on his wedding day.

…

Speaking of…

"_Where's Maka?" _Soul thought to himself, his careful, nonchalant mask hiding his sheer panic.

"Where's your dear wife, _Soul Eater~?"_ Arachne cooed in his ear, her voice stunning him from making any sort of movement.

"She starts this fight and then leaves you to finish it for her? Not very queen-like of her, now is that?" The spider queen wrapped her arms sweetly around his neck, her nose nuzzling into his hair. She was so...warm…

"D...don't… talk about...her like that," Soul slurred. What was the matter with him? Why was everything so hazy? Why couldn't he move?

He just wanted to sleep.

Arachne smiled and grabbed Soul's chin with her long, thin fingers. "You're such a failure, aren't you? _Sooo_ many times you've failed…"

_Why was he listening to this?_

"As a son…"

_How did this happen?_

"As a brother…"

_Where **was** Maka?_

"As a king…"

_Why did he care?_

"And now, as a husband."

_He was slipping._

" But, look who've you decided to marry. A woman who starts fights and disappears in the middle of it. Where could she have gone?"

"I'm right here." Arachne tossed her head up to look at the Phoenix Born, startled that she hadn't noticed her standing in front of her before.

Maka's eyes were slits, their color a deep emerald, fire swirling behind the green pool of her irises. Her grip tightened on the sword's hilt.

Soul's eyes widened, the familiar sheen of the magnificent sword waking him from his stupor.

The sword's was his father's after all.

"Duck." Maka ordered.

"What?"

"Duck!" Maka screamed as she flung the sword into Arachne's face, the scream that emitted from her throat more frightening and blood curdling than any they have heard. The hit forced Arachne to release Soul from her grip, the white-haired man took the opportunity to slip away from her while Maka yanked her weapon out of Arachne's face.

"Y...you… INSOLENT BITCH!" Arachne screeched, her features getting sharper and more terrifying as she rapidly climbed onto the wall.

"Are you upset?" Maka yelled after her. "Come down here and fight me, then!"

Arachne glared at her before turning her head towards the hallway entrance.

"Maka! Soul!" Spirit's voice bounced off of the walls, echoing in the battle torn corridor.

"Papa…?"

* * *

It happened in a split second.

The hallways gave way to Spirit, showing him the path to the battlefield. What he saw almost made him turn back around and run for his life. Arachne had entered into her true form and it was _hideous_.

And his daughter was fighting against her.

He had to help.

Maka's attention had turned to her father, unsure if she should be relieved to see he was okay or furious with him for cluelessly bringing this havoc to the palace. Her shift in attention gave Arachne the chance to make her move. The spider queen began to recite a spell,

_"Here lies my web of lies and you are the flies with muffled cries."_

The magic of the spell was heading for Maka so quickly that she had no chance to move.

So, Spirit pushed her out of the way.

"PAPA!"

He couldn't move.

"He's not breathing!"

He wasn't? It was okay, though.

He could die knowing he protected his daughter.

He just wished he could've made her smile on last time.

* * *

Hearing Maka scream like that made Soul's throat run dry and his heart stop.

What he didn't realize was that he was screaming as well.

Spirit was a pain in the ass, but the man was practically his second father.

And now, he was dead.

How many people would he lose in this palace?

Why did he fight so hard for this place if his loved ones were going to continue to have their lives taken away from them here?

_Because no matter what you do, you'll always be worthless._

Oh.

_Just a sniveling little brat trying to be like his dead daddy._

_That_ voice was back. He thought he had gotten rid of it after he reclaimed his home.

Soul shook his head. He needed to focus. He needed to check on Maka.

What was Maka doing?

Maka had stopped screaming, her head bowed down low, her hair was undone and covering her face.

"...Maka…" Her name came out in a whisper, his tone concerned as he made his way slowly towards her.

She suddenly stood, her eyes watery but the fire within them burning brighter and hotter than before. Her grip tightening on the sword's handle before she headed full speed towards Arachne's form.

Arachne didn't even flinch.

Maka wasn't paying attention.

"MAKA, NO!"

She didn't see Arachne's long, sharp fingernails purposefully in front of her torso.

Arachne roughly pulled her hand out the Phoenix Born's stomach, her sharp nails scraping her entrails and spilling her guts and blotches of blood on the floor.

Soul was paralyzed.

Was this happening?

Was he cursed?

Was everyone he loved going to die tragically in this place?

Would he ever be happy?

No.

He was nothing but a sniveling brat trying to be like his dead father.

Soul grinned widely, his sharp teeth flashing.

Arachne turned towards him, waiting patiently. "Oh. Looks like I've done something terrible." Her lips set itself into it's usual smirk. "What are you going to do now?"

Fine.

If he wasn't going to find happiness, then maybe no one would. Maybe no one deserved happiness.

Arachne's laugh grated his ears, the sound akin to someone repeatedly smashing their hands on an organ.

Someone like _her_ definitely didn't deserve happiness.

He'd put an end to that.

"Tch." Soul sucked his teeth before pulling his lips back into that off kilter grin of his, the smile off-putting to even the likes of Arachne.

"I'm gonna rip your fucking throat out."

His eyes were a pure red, the pupil almost non-existent.

"And then I'm gonna eat your soul."


	14. Chapter 14

"_And then I'm gonna eat your soul."_

Why did this always happen?

"Is that all?" Arachne shrieked.

Why was he always fighting?

He landed a well placed kick in the center of her throat, staggering her breathing. His hands were a flurry of punches hitting every inch of skin.

Wasn't he supposed to be the "Phoenix Blessed", _blessed_ by the creator of this kingdom? Of this very palace where all his loved ones came to die?

Arachne was finally able to grab a hold of his rapid fists, gaining the upper hand and flipping him over. One of her spider legs now rested on his throat.

Why could he never find happiness?

Arachne giggled lightly, the sound odd coming out of this form she was in. "What was that about ripping my throat out?" Soul grabbed onto her hairy leg, the sensation scratchy and rough as he tried to relieve the pressure on his windpipe.

"I think me crushing your esophagus is a much better idea~" she cooed, deviousy.

Soul tried his hardest to fight back.

But he only had two arms.

She had eight legs, all of them strong and powerful.

His grip on her leg loosened with each moment, the pressure rapidly becoming unbearable.

"_Don't give up, Soul."_

"_But it's sooo hard, Father."_

"_It may be right now, but just keep doing it. You will succeed."_

When had his father said that to him?

"_You will succeed."_

He needed to remember.

He needed to succeed.

"_I'll make you proud, Father."_

"_I know you will. You already have."_

He grabbed onto Arachne's legs once again, putting all his strength into this one push.

Even if his loved ones were dead, he still had their memories.

He still had their voices and scents and laughs ingrained in his everyday life.

He still had Maka.

And with that thought, Soul pushed with all his might, the pressure of the spider queen finally alleviated from his throat.

That was so…

Easy.

He turned to his left expecting to find Arachne's body close to him but instead found that it was thrown several feet away from him.

He definitely didn't do that. He could barely even lift one of her legs before, there was no way he threw her all the way over there.

But if he didn't…

Then who did?

He looked in the direction of Spirit's body, barely registering the twitch in the older man's finger and his rising and falling chest.

"_But… Maka said he wasn't breathing…!"_

_...Maka…_

He gathered up the courage to turn his head towards the spot where Maka lost her life for the second time only to see _that her body wasn't there_.

That's when he noticed her.

The Phoenix.

Maka stood unmoving in front of the still body of Arachne. Soul drunk this new form of hers in. Her large wings had feathers made of fire, the colors ranging from gold to blue, the blue fire trailing the ground.. Maka's wedding dress was still the same but instead of fabric wrapping around her frame, it was made actual fire, the black train of her dress now ash that billowed with every breath she took. Her eyes were no longer green, but they were glowing a bright gold, fire seeping out of her sockets.

Maka was literally fire.

And, he was her moth.

"...Maka…?" The name caught the young woman's attention, her head turning to look back at Soul. She smiled softly at him, before moving towards Arachne's rigid form, her wings trailing behind her.

Arachne began to groan and move just as Maka tackled her, shoving the spider queen back to the ground with a foot to her throat.

"This seem familiar, old friend?" the Phoenix asked, her tone bothered, as if she were a mother dealing with her petulant child. Arachne merely glared at her.

"I had hoped that your_ time out_ would have taught you a lesson." Maka's fiery eyes glared through Arachne, keeping an eye on her soul. The wickedness within it was fit to burst.

"It seems that all you've been doing is plotting your revenge." Maka's lips pouted.

The Phoenix sighed.

"I had really hoped to be friends again, Arachne." the Phoenix stated solemnly, her wings spreading widely, the fire of her feathers burning brightly before Arachne twisted Maka's ankle causing Maka's small body to fall off of Arachne's larger form. Soul ran to catch her, her lithe body landing steadily in his atms.

"Thank you, Soul." Maka once again threw that soft grin at him before spreading her wings and taking to the air, the high ceiling providing plenty of room.

Soul smirked up at her, while that certainly wasn't Maka's voice, that was definitely her smile. His wife was okay.

"This isn't going to go the same way as last time, Phoenix! Do you really think you can defeat me in that pathetic form?!" Arachne was getting nervous. Last time she got off easy, but this time… Phoenix might actually kill her.

She wasn't ready to die yet, the world wasn't destroyed and all of mankind wasn't bowing to her, she couldn't die now.

* * *

The two queens threw spell after spell at each other, Maka blocking and returning most of Arachne's magic with her wings while Arachne received the brunt of her own attacks. The spider queen screamed in frustration, her spells gaining in speed and desperation. Soul could see that Arachne was on the brink of bursting but Maka's body was incredibly tired and the Phoenix did not want to wear her out. Something glimmered in the corner of his eye.

His father's sword.

"_I'll make you proud, Father."_

"_I know you will. You already have."_

Soul walked towards the sword and picked it up, weighing the weapon in his hand before holding onto the handle firmly. He then made his way over to the two battling queens, slowly, as to not gain Arachne's attention.

"IS THAT ALL? COME ON PHOENIX! WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LAST FEW CENTURIES? STAYING IN THAT NICE, COMFY SPIRIT REALM WEAKEN YOU?" Arachne screeched at the winged female, her arms flailing as she threw her spells at her. She didn't notice Soul behind her, patiently waiting for the right moment.

The Phoenix said no words only shielded herself with her wings and waiting for an opening.

Arachne was tired.

She puffed, her chest heaving heavily as the Phoenix's glowing eyes burned sympathetically. The look angered Arachne.

"Don't look at me like that! We aren't friends!"

"We used to be…" the Phoenix retorted quietly

"NOT ANYMORE. NOT EV-" Arachne suddenly stopped, she felt very, very wrong.

"Oh," she said lamely.

There was a sword sticking out of her stomach.

"Heh. I-It's-" Arachne collapsed to the ground onto her two knees, her blood loss and fatigue unable to uphold her great form.

"It's going... to take... more than that to kill me." Arachne wheezed, her ability to breath limited by the hole in her torso. A bright light stunned her causing her to shift her attention from the King to the Phoenix. Her wings were stretched to their full expanse, the fire of her feathers creating a white light, as she chanted her final spell,

_In fire may you burn, your blood you shall weep. May ash be your final form, never to life may you return._

The light began to burn brighter, blinding Soul but scorching Arachne, her screams as her skin burnt to ash echoing throughout the palace.

When the bright, light receded the only thing left in their presence was a pile of black ash.

The Phoenix flew down and landed in front of Soul, hugging him as soon as her feet touched the blood stained and scuffed carpet.

"Maka requested that I do that." The Phoenix's tone was confident and informative while her actions were shy yet flirtatious, her hands clasped behind her back and her lip pulled between her teeth let Soul know that his wife was definitely was in there.

"I'm glad you two are married. You suit each other."

Soul chuckled nervously. "Aha, thank you…"

The Phoenix scooped up the ash with her wings, "I shall be taking this." She turned her still glowing eyes to Soul and patted his shoulder.

"You are doing a marvelous job, Soul." She smiled warmly at him, her touch like the heat of his grandmother's fireplace.

"You're family loves you."

And with that, she was gone.

Maka collapsed and Soul flung out his hands to catch her by the elbows.

"Woah…"

Maka had to be exhausted.

He looked down at his wife and her fluttering eyelids, he felt her steady breaths against his chest.

He smiled.

He didn't care that they had a shit load of clean up work to do. He didn't care that towns were probably in disarray. He didn't care that he was going to be spending his days changing and fixing laws and speaking with foreign diplomats.

He was happy.

And he had someone to share that happiness with.

And that was all that mattered.

….

But, dear Phoenix, did they have a shitload of work to do.

* * *

_And that's all folks! That is my story! I hoped you enjoyed~ Be on the lookout for some oneshots that will explore this world a bit more and I'd love to hear what you'd like to see elaborated on!_


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